


The Wedding Date

by Jade4813



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813
Summary: Zoey agrees to be Max's Plus One at his brother's wedding. They're supposed to be just friends, but the dreams Zoey's been having about him lately make things complicated.
Relationships: Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 90
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

Zoey was in the middle of her fifth wardrobe change in ten minutes when she heard the knock on the door. Muttering a curse under her breath, she threw a baleful look in the mirror as she yanked her shirt into place. On the way to answer the knock, she tripped on the pair of pants she’d hastily discarded two minutes before, sending her careening into the wall. Cursing much more loudly this time, she kicked the pants aside and closed her bedroom door behind her, not wanting her guest to see the mess she’d left in her wake.

A second knock echoed through the apartment, and she paused, taking two deep breaths, trying to calm her pounding heart. She was being ridiculous. She’d done this countless times, and she’d never had an issue before. So why was her pulse racing at the thought of the evening ahead?

Okay, she knew why, but she wasn’t about to own up to _that_. Even to herself.

Brushing her hair back over her shoulders, she plastered a smile on her face before pulling her door open. “Max! Hey!” she greeted him warmly, stepping back to usher him inside.

“Hey, is everything okay? I thought I heard a loud thud a minute ago.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I was just in the…um…the bathroom.” Belatedly, she realized he’d mentioned a loud sound and hadn’t commented on why it took her so long to get to the door, and her eyes widened in horror. Seeing Max’s expression of surprise and no small measure of alarm, she rushed to explain, “I was…I was cleaning it! And I fell over. You know.” With one hand, she pantomimed a person falling over. “Boom!”

“Oh, wow. Are you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m totally fine! It’s not the first time I’ve fallen down cleaning my bathroom before,” she scoffed, turning away from him so he couldn’t see her mounting horror at the words coming out of her mouth. What was _wrong_ with her? She had to get herself under control. Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a whoosh as she suggested, “Why don’t you…have a seat on the couch. I’ll grab us some drinks and see if I can track down some popcorn.” And perhaps her sanity.

Ignorant to her emotional and mental turmoil, he stepped toward her and offered, “Do you want some help?”

“No!” she yelped, scampering backwards. She was unhinged enough as it was; she needed a few minutes without him in close proximity to get her head on straight. “You go sit down! I’ve got this!”

Max tilted his head to the side, throwing her a puzzled look. “If you’re sure,” he finally replied, sounding dubious.

“I am absolutely sure. One hundred percent sure. I got this. You go sit. Um…I think it was your turn to pick out the movie, if you want to take care of that.”

He nodded, choosing not to comment on the fact she sounded like she was five seconds away from hyperventilation, and turned towards the television as she darted towards the kitchen. Hiding in front of the refrigerator, out of his line of sight, she pressed her forehead against its smooth, cold surface and sucked in a deep breath.

She was being completely absurd. It was just another movie night with Max! She couldn’t count the number of times they’d done this before, and there was no reason why this one had to be all that different than any other! Well…no _good_ reason. No reason she was ever going to explain to _him_ , at least, thank you very much.

“I actually brought over a movie, if that’s all right,” he called from the living room, causing her to jump and slam her knee against the refrigerator door. Biting back a curse, she hopped up and down, rubbing the injured area as she hobbled over to the cabinet to find some snacks.

“That’s great!” she replied, tossing a bag of popcorn into the microwave and then poking her head into the victor in her most recent skirmish with an appliance. “What do you want to drink? I’ve got beer, soda, or…” she looked around, “I think some wine around here.”

He appeared in the doorway, causing her to retreat to the other side of the kitchen island. “Actually, wine sounds good.”

“Okay,” she agreed, barely conscious of what she was agreeing to as she grabbed a towel and pretended to wipe something down on the kitchen island’s surface so she could avoid looking at him. But when she looked down and caught sight of her simple pink t-shirt and black yoga pants, it made her remember her earlier dilemma. Was this too casual? She didn’t want to look like she was _trying_ to dress up for him or anything, but she also didn’t want him to think she was a complete wreck. Maybe she should have gone with the long-sleeved shirt with polka-dots and – No. She had to stop this. _Get a hold of yourself! What is_ wrong _with you?_

Peeking up at him through her eyelashes, she saw him lean casually against the wall. “Anyway, I thought we could go for a little Bond action, so I brought Casino Royale. I hope that’s okay.”

The way he was lounging in the doorway caused his shirt to stretch across his chest, reminding her of what was concealed underneath. She gulped, scrubbing hard enough at her imaginary spot that she was surprised she didn’t strip the wood. He was staring at her expectantly, which made her realize he was probably waiting for some sort of response. What had they been talking about? She had absolutely no idea. “Huh?” she asked.

He grinned. “You know!” he said cheerfully, straightening to put his hands in his pockets and turning slightly to throw her a smoldering look over his shoulder. “Bond. James Bond.”

It was a terrible impression, but she’d be damned if it wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Her towel dropped to the floor as she breathed, “Oh.” He was giving her a curious look, so she feigned nonchalance as she shifted to lean on the kitchen island. Unfortunately, it was on wheels and started to roll away from her, so she ended up more or less splayed across its surface, resting her head on one hand. “That sounds, you know, fun.”

“Zoey, are you…wait, do you smell something burning?”

The popcorn! Jolting upright, she raced to the microwave and rescued the bag, coughing when she got hit in the face with a billow of smoke. “Oh, damn it!” she mumbled as she waved the smoke away before it could set off the detector.

She didn’t realize Max had walked up behind her until he chuckled, reaching around her to grab another bag out of the box she’d tossed next to the microwave. She felt herself lean back, longing to curl up in his arms, and panicked. Dropping her hands to her side, she spun around to face him, only realizing too late the flaw in her plan. Now her face was just a few inches from his. She caught her breath, but he didn’t seem to notice their proximity as he tossed the new bag in the microwave and hit a couple of buttons.

“Um…sorry about ruining it. The popcorn, I mean,” she breathed. She felt herself start to reach for him, so she leaned backwards and gripped the edge of the counter instead. She was holding onto the edge hard enough to hurt, but it was the only way she could be sure she wouldn’t run her hands down his chest.

He grinned down at her. “That’s all right, Zo. I love you for many reasons, but your cooking isn’t one of them.”

Longing to ask him what he did love about her, she found herself swaying toward him against her will. He didn’t seem to notice, though, as he popped open the microwave door and grabbed the bag from inside. “Ah…do you want this in a bowl, or…?” he asked, looking around.

Right. She was supposed to be getting a snack. And Max wasn’t the snack in question. Pushing that thought aside, she offered, “I’ll take care of that,” grabbing the bag out of his hand. “Do you want to take care of the wine?”

“Sure!” he agreed, looking around until he spotted the bottles she’d tucked away. Reaching into the nearby drawer, he pulled out a corkscrew. “Red or white?”

“Either is fine with me.” Zoey didn’t care about wine at the moment. Not when she found herself captivated by his hands as he worked to uncork the bottle. He had beautiful hands, she realized, though she couldn’t remember ever being so struck by a person’s hands before. They were strong and graceful, his fingers long and tapered. A musician’s hands. Had he ever played an instrument?

She didn’t realize that she’d spoken the question aloud until he answered. “Well, when I was in college, I tried to learn the guitar, but I haven’t picked one up in years. I’m pretty good with the piano, though, if I say so myself.”

Dear. God. Fervently praying that she hadn’t spoken her entire internal monologue aloud, she squeaked, “The piano?”

“Yeah, I’ve been known to tickle the ivories a time or two,” he joked lightly, pouring some wine into two glasses.

She could imagine. Actually, she could imagine him tickling other things, too, come to think of it. Like her inner thigh, if he took those long, graceful fingers and trailed them up her –

_Stop it! STOP IT! GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!_

Afraid she was perilously close to hyperventilating, Zoey wondered how in the hell she was going to get through the next two hours without completely humiliating herself. Sitting with him on the couch. Their bodies only inches away. She could barely handle the kitchen; the living room sofa sounded like a disaster in the making. But, gritting her teeth, she knew she was going to have to try.

 _You can do this. You can do this. Just don’t look at his hands._ She pulled her gaze to his chest, but that just reminded her of what he’d looked like shirtless. _Or his chest._ She raised her eyes to his face and was immediately distracted by his mouth, imagining it on her – _NOPE! NOT THERE EITHER!_

In desperation, she dropped her gaze to his hips, narrow and lean, and in between – _ZOEY CLARKE, PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE NOT STARING AT MAX’S CROTCH RIGHT NOW!_

Okay, this had careened past “disaster” and was rapidly approaching “apocalyptic” territory. She gulped. “Um, listen, Max. About tonight -”

He scowled, putting the wine bottle aside. “I know. I’m acting weird, aren’t I?” She blinked in surprise and confusion. _He_ was acting weird? She was afraid she was ten seconds away from asking him to take her against the refrigerator! “I’m just a little distracted. Nervous, I guess.”

“What? No!” Wait, what was she doing? It was the perfect excuse to avoid discussing her own behavior! “I mean…well, maybe a little,” she lied. “Want to talk about it?”

He leaned back against the counter, bracing himself with his hands, causing his shirt to stretch across his chest again. _Was it getting a little hot in her apartment at the moment? It felt like it was getting a little hot in her apartment._ “Not really, but I can’t put it off forever. Um…I have a favor to ask you, but you should feel free to say no if you want. I know it’s last minute and everything. Actually, you should definitely say no. In fact, why don’t I just assume you’re going to say no and –”

“Max!” she chided him with a breathless laugh, forgetting about her own distraction for a brief moment. “It can’t possibly be that bad! What do you need? A kidney? Because we’re friends, and if you need a kidney…pssh. It’s yours.”

His chuckle was pained. “No, a kidney would be easier. Actually, it’s…ah, do you remember me mentioning my brother?” She nodded. She’d never met Max’s family, and she knew he didn’t like to talk about them, but she at least knew they existed and that they weren’t particularly close. “He’s…ah…he’s getting married this weekend. Back home. In New York.”

“Max, that’s wonderful!” she replied cheerfully.

He bobbed his head up and down – not quite a nod, but not quite a shrugging gesture, either. “Yeah, it’s great. His fiancé is really nice. The thing is…um…they’re kind of expecting me to come with a Plus One, and I don’t have a Plus One.”

She caught her breath, mentally connecting the dots. “A date? You want me to be your date? To your brother’s wedding?”

He straightened, and she briefly mourned the loss of the view. “Not for real! My parents know we’re just friends. It’s not like you would have to pretend we’re in a relationship or anything. It’s just…these things can be really uncomfortable, and I thought…I mean, if you wanted to go…it would be less painful if you were there.” He paused and added lamely. “That is, if you want to be. But, again, you should probably say no, so…”

She should _absolutely_ say no, under the circumstances. Instead, she said, “Max, don’t be silly. I’d love to go. I mean, I may have to check to make sure I don’t have any other plans that night because you know my social calendar is _packed_ but…oh, wait, no. I forgot. I literally have zero life. I’ll be there.”

He grinned, and it was only when she saw the muscle in his jaw relax slightly that she realized how tense he’d been. “Really? That’s great! The flight’s a little early on Thursday, so we can make sure to get there on time for the pre-nuptial festivities. But I can come by and pick you up at one, if that’s all right.”

“Sure,” she agreed with a nod.

Grabbing the wine glasses, he led her into the living room, saying, “I really appreciate this, Zoey. I’m sure you’ll have a good time. I know that I’ve mentioned my family can be a bit _much_ , but it’ll make me feel better, having a friend there.”

A friend, she mused, as she gingerly took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. If only he knew about the dreams that tormented her night after night, ever since the evening she’d seen him sing to her beneath her parents’ window. Sometimes the details changed, but the type of dream remained the same. Though they slipped away when she opened her eyes, the snippets that remained left her body aching with need.

_“Max, please,” she breathed, as his arms went around her, lifting her easily. Her legs wrapping around his waist, she ran her hands down his bare chest as he pressed her against the wall. His mouth was hot on hers, and she moaned when he slid one hand under the skirt of her red and white dress and stroked her through her underwear._

_Longing to have him inside her, she arched her back, pressing against him. “Please,” she breathed when he kissed a line along her breasts, her clothes disappearing in the way they sometimes did in dreams. He slid those long, graceful fingers inside her, causing her to shudder. She rotated her hips, rocking against him as he teased her nipple with his tongue. “Please…”_

_She shivered at the feel of his mouth against her skin when he scraped his teeth along the curve of her neck and whispered, his breath warm in her ear, “Come for me, Zoey.”_

“Zoey?” Max asked, breaking her out of the memory of her dream the night before. She realized she was squirming slightly in her seat, her body throbbing with need. She stared at his hand in breathless fascination as he brought a handful of popcorn to his mouth, letting out a tiny sigh of longing when his tongue flicked out to clear the butter and salt from his lips.

What would he do if she told him she was interested in something other than a movie? If she threw her leg over his hips and climbed into his lap, sliding her tongue between his parted lips and –

“Are you okay?” His question penetrated her erotic musings. Oh, right. He’d think she’d lost her mind. Which she probably had.

“Yup! Totally! Totally…fine,” she reassured him, curling into a tight ball at the edge of the couch as she willed her body to stop yearning for him. She almost asked if he wanted to start the movie, before she looked at the screen and realized he already had. But she had things other than the film on her mind as the theme song started to play. Like if it was this hard to hide her fantasies from Max after just ten minutes in her apartment, how the hell was she going to survive an entire weekend in his company without making a complete fool of herself?


	2. Chapter 2

_Why could she never find anything? Zoey muttered to herself as she leaned over Max’s desk, rifling through the items on top in her futile search. She was about to give when she heard his voice behind her, the familiar sound sending a shiver of desire down her spine._

_“Did you find what you needed?”_

_Zoey straightened, letting out a low moan when he bent and pressed a hot kiss on the nape of her neck. “Not yet,” she admitted on a sigh. But she was about to._

_“Let me see if I can help,” he murmured in her ear. Closing her eyes, she leaned into him as his hands began to explore her body, tracing a path from her hips, along her stomach, up to her breasts. She lifted a hand to run her fingers through his hair, holding him to her, as he caressed her through the thin fabric of her red and white dress. “Is this what you were looking for?” he breathed, running his tongue along the soft shell of her ear._

_He did have the hands of a musician, because he was playing her body like an instrument. He wrapped an arm around her hips to hold her in place when she shuddered and pressed against him. But while she was scared and uncertain before him in her waking hours, in her dreams, she could be bold and demanding. Flirtatious, even. “Not yet,” she teased him, turning her face so he couldn’t see her wicked smile._

_And in her dreams, he was eager to play her little game. “Tell me what you want,” he instructed, releasing her breast to trace the line of her body down to her knee. Sliding under the hem of her skirt, he slipped his fingers between her thighs. She was already wet and aching for him, but though he traced erotic patterns on her skin, he teased her when his hand remained tantalizingly just out of reach. “Tell me what you want, Zoey.”_

_Zoey opened her eyes, marveling that her coworkers could be going about their day as usual when she was about to be fucked against a desk. Emboldened and impatient, she rested her weight on her hands and growled, “Damn it, Max, I want you to fuck me.”_

_He laughed, and she moaned in pleasure when he thrust into her…_

“Did you find what you needed?” Zoey had been lost in a memory of her dream the night before when the sound of Max’s voice made her yelp, jerking upright, the pen she’d been searching for catching air as she flung it halfway across the room.

“Wh-what?” she breathed, spinning around to face him. “What do you mean?”

He looked over her shoulder. “Well, you said you needed a pen. I didn’t realize you were going to try to kill Tobin with it.”

She looked over her shoulder to see her coworker throwing her a wide-eyed look of confusion, the pen having barely missed him. “Ah…right. Sorry about that, Tobin!” He ignored her, shoving her pen in his pocket as he slunk away.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, reaching for her shoulder, but she shied out of his reach. Right now, when she was still distracted by the warmth pooling between her legs at the memory of her dream the night before, she was a little scared about what she’d do if she let him touch her. “You seem…tense.”

If he only knew. She forced a laugh. “I’m fine! I just…haven’t been sleeping well. Had a lot on my mind.” She knew she needed to keep her distance from him, but she felt herself shift closer, flicking her tongue against her lower lip as she wondered what he would do if she asked him to kiss her. She’d heard him sing his feelings to her in her mind, but he’d never mention them to her before. Not with his words. Did that mean he wasn’t sure how he felt about her? That he did know how he felt about her but wasn’t sure he wanted to act on those feelings? That he was holding back because he didn’t know how she felt about him? She had no idea.

“I’m sorry,” he said sympathetically. Then, after a moment’s pause, he asked, “This isn’t because of this weekend, is it? Because if you’re worried…”

She was, but not for the reason he thought. “No! Of course not!” Not unless he had somehow caught on to the fact that she couldn’t get within ten feet of him without thinking about his hands. And his mouth. And his…

This. Was. Not. Helping.

“Actually, I did have a question for you,” she blurted when he started to walk away. “This weekend…” _Do you want to have sex? What happens in New York stays in New York, right?_ “Ah…what should I wear?” _Is nothing an option?_ “I mean, I don’t know what your brother has planned.” Feeling overheated, she grabbed a piece of paper of the desk and used it as a makeshift fan, trying to get a hold of herself before HR had to get involved.

“Oh, right! Well, there’s the wedding. Of course. And the rehearsal dinner. I don’t know what they plan to do for that, but it’ll probably be something big. If I know my family, I’d say you should probably be prepared for a couple more formal events while we’re out there.”

She smiled at him. “They like big moments, huh? Like my dad?”

He shrugged. “More like a big show. But we should have some time to ourselves on Sunday, when everything is over. We can go somewhere fun, just the two of us. It’s the least I can do to thank you for doing this for me.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’d love that.”

He grinned at her, his eyes warm. “All right. So, tomorrow, then.

“Tomorrow,” she agreed. She could hardly wait.

* * *

Max was dreading the next day. It wasn’t just the trip out East to visit his family, although that could often be stressful, even when they weren’t hosting a giant wedding. But what had possessed him to ask Zoey to come along?

It was true that he had hoped having a friend would make the weekend easier. But Zoey? The woman he secretly adored? Yeah, there was no chance _that_ could come back to bite him. Particularly since she’d been acting weird around him lately, and he’d started to wonder if she had started to suspect his true feelings and was trying to figure out how to respond. He knew Zoey wasn’t the most comfortable dealing with other people’s emotions. It was easy to imagine she’d struggle with finding a way to let him down easy.

Well, he would just have to go out of his way to hide his feelings and not put any pressure on her this weekend. She was doing him a favor, after all. He didn’t want to give her any reason to regret it. And, really, how hard could it be? It was just going to be three and a half days dedicated to love and romance. Surrounded by his family.

Yeah, he was pretty much screwed.

But he was also excited, he admitted to himself as he loaded his luggage into the Uber the next day. Spending an entire weekend away with Zoey? It was something of a dream come true. Of course, he couldn’t afford to get swept up in the romance of the moment and make a fool out of himself. But as long as he could avoid that, he couldn’t think of anything better than spending a few days with his favorite person in the world.

So, with that thought in mind, he was smiling when he arrived at Zoey’s apartment and helped load her things into the car. She was dressed semi-casually, in black capri pants and a pink sweater, and she threw him a nervous look when she slid into the back seat. “Is this okay?” she asked, gesturing to her outfit. “I’ve never met your parents, and I wasn’t sure if I should dress up a little more…”

“It’s perfect. You look great,” he reassured her, taking her hand. “They’re going to love you.” He couldn’t imagine anyone not loving Zoey.

They remained silent on their way to the airport, both lost in thought, but Zoey lifted her head off the back of the seat and looked around in confusion as they approached the airstrip. “Where are we? I thought we were going to the airport.”

“We are,” he replied, jumping out of the car when it pulled to a stop. When Zoey followed, he nodded towards the plane waiting on the tarmac. “That’s our ride.” When she stumbled to a halt, he threw her a concerned look over his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

Her eyes darted from him Max to the plane and then back to Max again. “I…your family has their own plane?” Confused by her reaction, he nodded. “I…I didn’t know your family has their own plane.”

Reaching to take her hand in his, he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah, they mostly use it for work, but my mom was afraid I’d get hung up and miss a commercial flight. Is that a problem?”

“No! No, not really,” she blurted quickly. “I just…I knew your family was…you said formal, but I’m not sure I brought anything formal _enough_ for people who own their own planes.”

“Oh, Zoey, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m sure whatever you brought, you’ll look amazing. You’ll probably outshine everyone else at the party. Including the bride.”

She threw him a shaky smile, but she seemed a little more at ease as she followed him to the plane. “You know, since I don’t really like being the center of attention, that’s not really reassuring.”

He grinned. “Okay, so the only person who won’t be able to take their eyes off you will be me.” When her hand twitched in his, he could have cursed himself. So much for not letting his feeling show. In an effort to take her mind off his slip, he greeted his parents’ pilot, Andrea, warmly before ushering Zoey onto the plane and helping her get seated. He had planned to sit a little away from her, to give the both of them some space. However, when he saw she still looked anxious, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs, he lowered himself into the seat next to her and took her hand.

They sat in silence, Zoey staring out the window, through the taxi and takeoff. Wishing he could do something to put her more at ease, he suggested, “Do you want to take a nap or something?”

Her head whipped towards him, and he could swear the expression on her face was one of sheer horror. “A nap? No, I don’t want a nap! Why would you think I’d want a nap?”

Startled by her reaction, he offered slowly, “Uh, I just…I thought it might make the time go by faster.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “Right. Um…You know what I could use? A drink. Not – not alcohol. Water. Do you have water on here?”

“Of course,” he said with a quick smile. “Let me just -”

“No, I can get it!” she blurted, unbuckling her belt and jumping to her feet. “I assume it’s just –” She nodded towards the galley. “I’ll be right back.”

Max sat back, bemused, but he got to his feet and followed a minute later when he heard Zoey struggle with a cabinet door. They had special locks on them to prevent them from flying open in the event of turbulence, and they weren’t necessarily the most intuitive to operate.

He strolled casually behind her and asked, “Need help?” Leaning over her, he reached for the locking mechanism and heard her suck in a sharp breath. It wasn’t the first time she’d reacted that way to having him near, and he froze. He had assumed she’d been tense in her apartment the evening before because she’d picked up on his preoccupation about his brother’s wedding and, unaware of its cause, had been thrown off-guard. Had he read the entire situation wrong? Was she uncomfortable being around him because she knew his feelings and was afraid he was trying to make a pass at her?

“Oh, hey,” he began as she spun around to face him. But just at that moment, they hit some mild turbulence. She stumbled forward, falling against his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her, turning to the side to tuck her protectively between the wall and his body until the plane settled under his feet.

When things had calmed down, he started to ask her if she was okay, but then he realized how close his face was to hers. Her hands had grabbed onto his shoulders, and she was staring him in the eyes, and if he tilted his head forward just a little, he could kiss her. “Zoey -” he began, but she cut him off.

“Max? I think we should have sex.”

Wait, what? Had she actually just said what he… “H-here? Now?” _At all? Ever?_ His voice came out as an awkward stammer as his brain desperately tried to catch up. She hadn’t just hit her head when they were going through turbulence, did she? Narrowing his eyes, he examined her quickly for injuries but none were apparent.

Zoey gasped. “I…I didn’t mean to say that!”

That sounded a bit more like her, but now his heart had caught on to what was going on and was hammering in his chest. “You didn’t mean it? Or you didn’t mean to say it?” he asked slowly.

She threw him a pained look. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.” Well if she didn’t know, he sure as hell didn’t! “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

“You’ve been thinking about it a lot,” he repeated. He’d been about to release her and step away, but those few words glued him to the spot. He couldn’t move. He could barely breathe. His brain seemed incapable of processing new thoughts and ideas. It was struggling to process the words he was currently speaking, in fact.

She winced but gave him a little nod. “Maybe thinking is the wrong word. More like…dreaming.”

Holy. Shit. “You’ve been dreaming.” She nodded. “About sex.” She nodded again. “With me.”

She looked increasingly miserable with every sentence he repeated, but he couldn’t help it. If the sun exploded in the next ten minutes, he couldn’t be more surprised than he was at that moment. Zoey had been dreaming about having sex with him. _Zoey had been dreaming of having sex with him!_ He was pretty sure he’d had fantasies that started out that way, but would he have ever imagined hearing her utter those words in real life? Absolutely not.

Her voice small and desperate, she begged, “Actually, this is pretty…can you just forget I said anything?”

That begged for some clarification. “Can I just forget that you told me we should have sex? Or that you said you’d been dreaming about having sex with me?” He couldn’t seem to stop parroting everything she said back at her, but at some point he was going to have to try.

She nodded. “Um…both would be great.”

“Well, no, actually. If I’m being honest. I’m pretty sure on my deathbed, in another fifty years or so, those two sentences will be the last thing I’ll remember. Can we maybe talk about it instead?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she breathed, but for the first time, he realized she hadn’t released him, either.

“Out of curiosity, where?” he blurted. It was hardly the most pressing question on his mind, but it seemed an easier topic for his stalling brain to grasp. “I mean, in your dream? Where did we have sex?”

Though she was blushing, she leaned into his body as she corrected him, “In my dreams, you mean? Plural? Oh, uh…lots of places, I guess. The couch in my apartment…your desk at work. The street outside my parents’ house…your bed…my kitchen island…the -”

His knees buckled as her litany continued. “I hate to interrupt you, but could you excuse me for a moment? There’s something I need to do.” She nodded, and he wrapped the hand he’d used to brace the two of them against the wall to steady her as he lowered his mouth to hers. He held back for a moment, giving her a chance to refuse or push him away, but she didn’t. Instead, she tightened her hold on his shoulders and gave a little hop, jumping into his arms.

Max caught her instinctively as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her. His arm wrapping around her, he stumbled back towards their seats, a vague awareness in the back of his mind that another bout of turbulence now, and he would fall and probably kill them both.

In the past few months, he’d thought about telling Zoey his feelings for her countless times, even going so far as to imagine how she might respond. Would she freak out and run away? Tell him she loved him too? Ask for time? Grow angry that he was complicating their friendship? Surprisingly, she did none of those things. Instead, Zoey hungrily devoured his kiss, her lips demanding more.

Making his way to the nearest seat, Max put her back on her feet before pulling her down on top of him. She followed without protest, her hands cupping his face to hold him in the place as her tongue swept into his mouth. With his hand, he caressed the soft skin at the nape of her neck, but he sucked in her breath with a gasp when she dropped her hands and started tugging at the bottom of his shirt, eager to reach underneath.

“Zoey, oh my god,” he breathed, as desperate to feel her hands on him as she apparently was. He shuddered at the touch of her hands against his bare skin, the shock enough to pull him out of his romantic haze. “Wait, maybe we should talk about this,” he panted, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands off him so he could think for a moment. “Don’t you think?” To say that this was _sudden_ would be an understatement. Maybe he should make sure they were on the same page first? Or, again, that she hadn’t suffered from a previously undiagnosed head injury?

“Nope,” she breathed, placing a wet kiss on the side of his neck. He moaned, and she responded by pressing against him. He was so hard, his whole body aching to be inside of her, but he tried to cling to the last threads of rational thought. That became nearly impossible when she said, “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s better to just act, don’t you think?”

 _Yes._ “No?” The word came out as a question. His breath hissed between his teeth as she bucked against him. “Wait, hold on.” In an effort of willpower he would have sworn was beyond him until this very moment, he grabbed her hips and lifted her off him, setting her back on her feet.

“You don’t want to…” she began to protest, but he let out a breathless laugh.

“Oh, no. I want to. _Believe_ me, I want to. But not like this. Not on my parents’ plane. It won’t be long before we land, and I don’t want to have to rush through our first time. Okay?”

She looked disappointed, her eyes still dark with desire. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”

He sucked in a deep breath and steeled himself for the harder question. “There is one thing I need to know, though. Before we continue. What is this, Zoey? What do you want this to be?”

She looked away from him, crossing one arm over her chest in a protective gesture. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I just thought…you know, while we were in New York, maybe…like a wild weekend away. We could…get it out of our systems. Or something.”

So she didn’t love him. It wasn't what he'd wanted to hear, but it was at least an answer. A stronger man might have been able to turn her offer down, but he’d pretty much expended his internal fortitude for the day. Besides, better to hold her in his arms for one weekend than not at all.

He could do this. To hold her in his arms, he could lock his heart away. It was a small price to pay.

“Um…maybe I should sit,” she suggested, turning around.

Instead, he reached for her, pulling her back down into his lap. “Actually, I think you should come here.”

Although she let out a little squeak of surprise, she didn’t protest or move away. Instead, she shivered and let out a low moan as he swept his hands under the soft fabric of her sweater, captivated by the softness of her skin. “But I thought…you said…” she breathed.

He ran his tongue along the curve of her ear and had to suck in a deep breath, closing his eyes in an attempt to retain control, when she moaned again as his faint stubble scraped the soft skin of her neck. “I don’t want to have to rush through our first time,” he clarified in a low growl. “But I never said anything about leaving you like this.”

His smile was wicked against her cheek when he reached down and unbuttoned her pants, slipping his hand inside. “Now, why don’t you tell me more about these dreams you’ve been having?”


	3. Chapter 3

Zoey gripped Max's arms, her hips thrusting against his hand as he slid his hand between her thighs, teasing her with smooth, measured strokes. Her little sounds of pleasure were the sexiest thing he'd ever heard in his life, and he chuckled when she moaned his name. He sucked gently against the side of her neck, trying not to leave a mark they’d have to explain to his family, as he rocked against her.

Rubbing his thumb against her clit with one hand, he let the other roam over her body, stroking her breasts, tracing his fingertips along her stomach and down her thighs. He wanted to memorize the feeling of her. If this weekend would be his one chance to hold her like this, then he was determined to make the most of it. To etch these precious memories so deeply into his mind and his heart that he could carry them with him for the rest of his life.

He was so hard, and the temptation to strip off her clothes and live out some of his wildest fantasies was almost irresistible. But it wasn’t the time for that, so, closing his eyes, he tried to push away the thoughts of everything he’d dreamed of doing to her, with her, to focus completely on the feel of her in his arms. He felt himself respond to every sigh, every gasp. He explored her body until he found the rhythm that made her arch against his hand, her fingers digging harder into his thighs. “Max, please…please…” He had to stifle his satisfied smile at the sound of his name on her lips. If only they weren’t on a plane. There were so many things he’d dreamed of doing.

Which reminded him… “So, when did these dreams start, exactly?” he murmured, nipping the shell of her earlobe with his teeth. He could tell she was on the edge, so he slowed the movement of his fingers, wanting to prolong her pleasure. And maybe tease her, just a little bit.

She let out a small squeak of dismay, bucking her hips to encourage him to increase his pace, but he pulled his fingers away with a chuckle. “When did the dreams start?” he repeated, stroking lazy patterns on her breasts.

“Damn it, Max,” she groaned, her voice thick with need. He grinned, expecting her to beg him a little, but it turned out that, even after all the years they’d known each other, she still had the ability to surprise him. Instead, she slid her palm down his arm, covering his hand with hers as she pleasured herself.

“Fuck,” he breathed, the experience more erotic than he’d expected. It was almost with regret that he grabbed her hand in his, pulling it away. They still had some time, and he didn’t want this to end too soon. “That’s cheating,” he chided her gently, bringing her hand up to his mouth to lick her juices off her skin.

In retrospect, it was a tactical error, he realized as he let out a guttural moan at the taste on his lips, shuddering against her. “God, Zoey…I could taste you for hours.”

As though sensing his weakness, Zoey took control, rotating her hips against him in a slow, torturous motion. Leaning back, she rested her head against his shoulder as she purred, “What do you want me to do to you, Max?”

His hands itched to tear off her clothes and thrust inside her. Max squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath. This time, it was his turn to beg. “Let me taste you again.” He heard her ragged breaths and the tiny sounds she made in the back of her throat as she pleasured herself, and he wondered if he had pushed her too far, teased her too much, and she would not be able to resist the temptation to make herself cum. But a few moments later, she slid her fingers between his parted lips, allowing him to taste her once more.

He’d intended to draw things out more, tease her a little longer, but the taste of her on his tongue shattered whatever control he had left. In one smooth, confident motion, he slid his hand back between her thighs. She trembled as she spread herself wider for him, and he stroked her over and over, emulating with his fingers what he wanted to do with his cock and his tongue. When her breathing became more ragged, her movements more frantic, he shifted her in his arms so he could capture her mouth, drinking in the sounds she made as she came unglued in his arms.

Zoey lay sprawled out across his lap, her hair draped across his chest, her breaths long and languid. Bowing his head to press a kiss against her shoulder, he lifted her gently, shifting her to the next seat. As happy as he would have been to stay there in that position with her for hours, his body was tense with need, his blood thrumming with a longing that he couldn’t yet fulfill. He was going to need a moment to pull himself together.

“Max?” she breathed, pulling herself upright as he stood.

“I’ll be right back,” he explained, taking small, shallow breaths through his nose to try to retain control. Somewhere on this plane, there had to be a bucket of ice he could pour over his head. Or down his pants.

She grabbed his hand, stopping him. “Wait.”

He groaned, his self-control wavering on the edge of a knife, as she rose to her feet before him. “Zoey…I-I just…I need a minute.”

“I know,” she reassured him, tucking her hair behind her ear. “But it’s my turn. I want to taste you too.”

His breath escaped him in a whoosh, and he had to reach out and brace his hand on the back of the seat to steady himself when his knees went to jelly. “That’s…that’s not…I want…” he managed to explain. Barely.

Resting one hand on his chest, she pushed him back until his back hit the cabin wall. “I know,” she repeated. “But you took care of me. I want to take care of you.” When he would have protested again, she stretched up on her toes, her body rubbing tantalizingly against him, and purred in his ear, “You aren’t the only one with a fantasy, Max Richman.”

He could no longer find the will – or the breath – to protest as she lowered herself slowly onto her knees before him, unbuckling his pants with swift, deft fingers. Tucked between a row of seats and the galley, he braced himself with one hand against the back of the seat and the other against a cabinet as she tucked her fingers inside his pants and the elastic band of his boxer briefs. He couldn’t have torn his gaze away from her provocative smile if he tried as she pulled them down, freeing his throbbing erection.

He groaned as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, stroking it slowly, as if she wanted to memorize the feel of him. His breath escaped in a hiss when she bent, running her tongue along the head of his cock, letting out a soft sigh at the taste of his pre-cum. “You do taste good,” she murmured, and he trembled at the feel of her breath against his moist flesh.

“P-please…I can’t…” he begged. In teasing her for so long, he had prolonged his own pleasure, but now his arousal danced along the edge of pleasure and pain. He wasn’t sure how much more teasing he could take.

Tilting her head back, she stared at his face for a long moment. He could barely breathe. Then, grasping his cock in one hand and wrapping the other around his thigh, she leaned forward and sucked him into her mouth. She flicked her tongue around the head of his penis, one final act to remind him who was in control. As she took him into the back of her throat, she hummed in pleasure, and he felt his hips buck against her mouth at the sensation.

Max closed his eyes, his head falling back against the cabin wall as she pleasured him. The hand around the base of his shaft stroked him, her thumb rubbing against the vein on the underside of his shaft. Her other hand seemed desperate to explore his body, her fingers trailing along his thigh to the hard ridge of his hip.

“Z-Zoey…I-I’m…” he began trying to warn her, and she pulled her mouth off him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Cum for me, Max.” Then, before he could pull away, she ran her tongue along the long line of his shaft before taking him into her mouth again.

With a strangled shout, his hips twitched one more time and he came, pouring himself into her mouth. She held him firmly in place, as though afraid he would try to pull away, as she swallowed his load, her tongue sweeping around the head of his cock one final time as she slowly released him.

Uttering a curse, his thighs still trembling from the aftermath of his orgasm, he sank to his knees, pulling her into his arms. He could taste himself on her lips as he kissed her, and even though he knew he should be spent, he could feel his desire for her start to build again.

“Zoey, I –” he began, perilously close to confessing his love for her before catching himself just in time. He closed his eyes, afraid they would betray him and in this moment, when his defenses were down, she would see there how much he loved her. “I-I can’t believe -” Just then, the pilot’s voice carried over the speakers, advising them that they were about to begin their descent, and whatever he couldn’t believe was forgotten as they scrambled to their feet and tried to put themselves quickly to rights before making their way to their seats.

As they hit the ground, she threw him a small, uncertain smile. “Well…that wasn’t necessarily the plan ride I’d _expected_ ,” she admitted.

Sensing her sudden shyness, Max lifted her hand to his mouth to press a kiss against the soft skin at the inside of her wrist. “That’s not necessarily bad, is it?”

She sighed with contentment at the touch of his mouth against her skin. “No,” she admitted, and he relaxed, leaning into her so she could rest her head against his shoulder as the plane made a slow taxi to the gate.

“I’m glad,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. He only had a few, precious days with her like this. He intended to make the most of them.

* * *

As they stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac, he took a quick glance around, unsurprised to see a car already waiting for them. It wasn’t a surprise that his family wasn’t there to greet him, and under the circumstances, it was probably for the best. Zoey’s cheeks were still flushed with pleasure, her clothing a little askew. One look at her, and anyone would guess what the two had been up to. He could only imagine what they’d see if they looked at him.

Still, he tried to feign an air of nonchalance as he recovered their baggage and loaded it into the car. As he slid into the backseat next to her, he cupped his hand around the back of her neck, drawing her in for a kiss. He could still taste himself on her tongue, and it was almost enough to ask the driver to take the long way to their destination so he could steal a few more precious moments with her in relative privacy.

But maybe that wasn’t what she wanted. It was probably best to make sure. “Zoey…before we meet up with my parents, I need to know…what do you want me to tell them? About us?”

The satisfaction in her eyes faded, and he watched as she pressed her lips together, rubbing them back and forth slowly in her unconscious display of uncertainty. “We should tell them…that we’re friends. Right? I mean, there’s a chance I’ll meet them again at some point, since we’re friends. I don’t want them to have the wrong idea…”

Her voice trailed off, and his heart sank. Of course, it was what he would have expected, but after everything that had just happened on the plane, a part of him had hoped for a different answer. But he kept his voice light as he replied, “Right. Of course. Just friends.”

“Do you – do you think that’s a bad idea?” she asked tentatively.

He shook his head, not wanting her to think he was regretting anything they had done. “No, of course not! Like you said, it’s probably the smart thing to do.” Then, to alleviate any lingering misgivings, he grinned and pulled her legs across his lap. “I’m just trying to think how many times I can get you all to myself this weekend, to play out a few more of those fantasies of yours.”

She let out a breathless laugh, drawing him in for a kiss. “I won’t argue with that.”

Slowly, regretfully, he pulled out of her arms. At her soft sound of protest, he threw her a pained look. “As much as I hate to stop, we’re not that far from the restaurant and they will definitely know what we’ve been up to if we keep that up for much longer.”

From the expression of mild horror on her face as she straightened her clothing for the second time, Max suspected she had totally forgotten the purpose for their visit – at least for a few minutes – and he had to duck his head to hide his smile of satisfaction. He might not be able to convince her to give him her heart, but her body’s response to him was gratifying, at least. It wasn’t everything he longed for, but it wasn’t nothing.

So he was grinning when they pulled up to the curb in front of the restaurant. Hopping out of the car, he leaned down to take Zoey’s hand, helping her to her feet. Then he turned to address the couple standing nearby, just outside the building’s entrance. “Mom, Dad,” he greeted them with a nod – an almost effusive display of affection within the circles in which they ran. “I want to introduce you to my friend, Zoey. Zoey, this is my mom and dad.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Dr. Richman. Mr. Richman,” she greeted them, reaching out her hand to shake theirs. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to _finally_ meet you, too,” his dad replied, masking his mild rebuke with a smile.

His mom stepped forward, wrapping Zoey’s hand in both of hers as they shook. “Zoey, we’re so glad you could come. We’ve heard so much about you; I was thrilled when Max mentioned you’d be joining him this weekend. Did you have a nice flight?”

She nodded as the elder Richman turned his attention to her companion. “Maxwell,” he said simply in greeting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him throw his son a tight smile. “Do you really think your outfit is appropriate for dinner?”

Although she didn’t want to be rude to his mom, Zoey threw a surprised look at Max over her shoulder. To her relief, she found he hadn’t stripped off his clothes or inexplicably changed into a chicken suit in the last ten seconds while her back was turned, and she found herself confused by his father’s criticism. In her opinion, Max looked damn fine in his black, high-neck sweater and slacks.

Gently pulling her hand free of his mom’s grasp, she stepped back, linking her arm in Max’s in a silent display of support and solidarity. He unconsciously shifted closer to her as he replied, a little caustically, “Dad. Good to see you too. Been a while. You’re looking good.” His remarks were pointed, acerbically responding to all the things his father hadn’t said. “And I’m sorry. I don’t usually travel in a suit. Anyway, I thought this was a casual dinner with the family, to give you a chance to meet Zoey while we catch up. I didn’t realize it was a formal affair.”

His expression was relaxed – even charming – but there was an undercurrent of steel in his father’s voice as he replied, “I don’t see why you can’t travel in a suit. I do. And I might have friends in there. It’s important to keep up appearances.”

“Appearances. Right. Well, we’re only a couple blocks away from the apartment. I’ll go change, then,” Max replied, bending down to brush a distracted kiss against his mother’s cheek.

Zoey swallowed, on edge from the tension between the two Richman men. “I-I’ll go change, too. I didn’t realize -”

“Oh, Zoey, that isn’t necessary!” his mom hastened to reassure her, but she could have bitten her tongue when his dad took her words as an opportunity to get a dig in at his son one more time.

“Zoey, please, don’t feel like you have to change on our account! _You_ look wonderful, and of course you had no way of knowing. Maxwell should have known better, and it was thoughtless of him to put you in this position. I apologize on his behalf.”

She didn’t even hear the words she mumbled politely in response, turning to scramble into the back seat of the car. As they pulled away, Max collapsed against the back seat with a sigh, the clenched muscle in his jaw betraying his tension. “So. That was my dad. Lovely guy, isn’t he?”

“Max, I -” she began, sorrowful and apologetic. She’d known that he wasn’t close with his father, that he had found something in Mitch that he didn’t have with his own dad. But she hadn’t realized how different their fathers were until that moment.

“I’m sorry, Zo. I probably really embarrassed you back there, huh? I promise it won’t happen again. I just wasn’t thinking. I should have realized my dad was going to turn a casual dinner with the family into an Event.”

Desperate to bring back the smile that had so warmed her on their trip into the city, she scooted over, resting her head on his shoulder. “You didn’t embarrass me,” she reassured him, and though he gave her hand a quick squeeze when she linked her fingers in his, he barely seemed to hear her as he stared forlornly out the window at the crowded streets.

* * *

They rode up the elevator to his family’s high-rise apartment in silence, but Zoey gasped when he led her through the front door, carrying their luggage. “Wow,” she breathed, staring at the floor-to-ceiling windows that covered one wall, looking out over the city. In the soft light of dusk, the city was breathtaking. “Your parents live here?”

He shrugged, setting their bags down. Grabbing her hand, he led her across the room to the windows. She trailed one hand along the sweeping curve of a grand piano as they stopped next to it and stared out at the city. “Yeah. Well, mostly on the other side; I’ll show you the connecting door later, so you don’t accidentally stumble over there in the middle of the night. My dad likes his privacy and can’t be disturbed while he’s working, so they set up these rooms for my brother. And me. Lee took them over after I moved away, but he and Caroline just bought their own place a few months ago, so I’m not sure what my dad plans to do with this now. Probably keep it up so they have a place to entertain business guests and have a place to put family members when they come visit. Not to mention so Lee and Caroline have a place to stay when they come to town.

She noticed he didn’t mention himself and felt a small, stabbing ache in her chest. “And whose is this?” she asked, nodding to the massive piano.

“Ah, that’s mine. Lee never really had the patience for it. I can play something for you later. For now…” his voice trailed off, and she thought he was going to suggest they had to hurry and get changed. Instead, he dropped to his knees in front of her, lifting the bottom hem of her sweater to press warm kisses against her stomach. “I can think of something better we can do.”

“Max!” she protested with a breathless gasp, even as she leaned into him. “We don’t have time for this! Your parents are waiting for us at the restaurant, remember?”

Resting his chin on her stomach, he threw her a piteous look. “Yeah. But my thing is more fun,” he pointed out with a pout.

She didn’t doubt it. She also suspected he was trying to delay another altercation with his dad, and couldn’t say she blamed him. But, still, she was a stranger to them. She didn’t want to be rude – or give his dad another reason to criticize him. She also didn’t want to point that out and chase away the laughter that was returning to his eyes, so she sank to the ground, straddling him, and threw her arms around his neck. “It is,” she agreed, giving him a playful kiss. “But we should have dinner first. I’m gonna need you to stock up all the energy you can for tonight.”

Zoey could see his response to her words as his eyes darkened with desire. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, as he devoured her with a kiss. When his mouth moved from her lips to her jaw and then down the curve of her neck, she sighed in pleasure, throwing her head back to allow him easier access. She said his name in an attempt to protest, to remind him again of their obligations, but it came out in a moan of longing. Her brain knew they had to hurry and get back to the restaurant, but her body wanted to finish what they had started on the plane.

He leaned forward, tilting her back as though struggling with the temptation to lay her back on the floor, to make love on the ground in front of the piano. But instead, he pressed one more soft kiss against her lips and then lifted her to her feet, following once he was sure she was steady. “As much as I would _love_ to finish this right now, you’re probably right. We should hurry. My dad may be a bit of an ass, but I don’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings by keeping them waiting. She really is looking forward to having the chance to get to know you.”

Fire was racing through her veins, tempting her to drag him back to the floor, so she was amazed he was able to appear so calm and relaxed as he grabbed her hand and led her down a short hallway. What else did he keep hidden beneath his calm exterior and easy smile? “You’ll be staying in Lee’s old room for tonight; Mom said she got it all ready for you. I’m just next door, if you need anything.”

 _You,_ she wanted to reply. _I need you_. And she sincerely doubted she’d be staying in his brother’s room at all. But, remembering their pressing deadline, she didn’t protest as Max headed through the adjacent door to change clothes. Instead, she grabbed her bag and tossed it on the bed, quickly pulling out a dark purple cocktail dress and matching shoes. It was formal but not fancy, the perfect outfit for a dinner out with his family.

Racing into the adjoining bathroom, she pulled her hair up into a loose twist and touched up her makeup. Then, blushing, she took a moment to brush her teeth. Though she’d enjoyed the reminder of their interlude on the plane, she’d been painfully aware of his taste on her lips when she’d greeted his parents.

Slipping into her shoes, she grabbed a wrap and headed back down the hall. Max was waiting for her by the piano, dressed in a royal blue suit and tie, his black and blue textured shirt standing out against his solid tie. “Wow, Zoey,” he breathed when she walked in. “You look…amazing.”

“So do you,” she told him with a smile, though she suspected his dad would disagree. From their brief introduction, Zoey sensed he was the sort to think that suits should only come in two colors – black and navy, with similarly monochromatic shirts – and she wondered if that had been Max’s purpose. A small act of malicious compliance.

Her suspicions were confirmed when he lifted his hand to his tie, smoothing it down, and said, “Thank you. I figured if it’s worth doing, it’s worth annoying dad over. You ready?” She nodded and took the arm he offered, and the two strode out of the room together.

* * *

“So, Zoey, my son has mentioned that the two of you work together at SPRQ Point,” his father commented over dinner. Zoey marveled to find that he’d been positively charming towards her over the course of the meal, given his overt criticism of his son not long before. To her surprise, he hadn’t made a jab at Max’s choice of wardrobe, beyond one disapproving sniff.

“Mm-hmm,” she agreed, throwing Max a warm smile. “You know, he’s amazing at work. Absolutely brilliant. I can’t tell you how many projects he’s helped me save.”

Max threw her a quick wink as his mom said, “Well, of course he is! We didn’t doubt it, did we Andrew?”

His dad didn’t take the bait. “It’s a shame he doesn’t get more time off,” he remarked mildly, taking a bite of his steak.

When she saw Max’s slight smile fall, she knew she’d meandered into another mine field, but she didn’t know the safest course forward. “Ah…”

His mom swooped in to try to salvage the conversation. “Of course we’d love to see more of Max, but it’s good to know he’s doing so well.”

“You know, Lee was just named VP of the Eastern Division. That could be you in ten years, if you get your foot in the door now.”

“Where is Lee tonight?” Zoey interjected quickly, trying to stop the conversational car crash she saw playing out in front of her. “I was hoping to get a chance to meet his fiancé.”

His mom cut in, deftly picking up the metaphorical life preserver she had thrown into their midst. “Oh, they’re staying with Caroline’s family tonight, dealing with some last-minute wedding details. You know how it is. Actually, Andrew and I are heading out tonight to join them.” At Zoey’s small sound of dismay, she explained, “We thought the two of you would like to enjoy a little peace and quiet in the city tonight, before the hecticness of the weekend sets in.”

But for his part, Max apparently wasn’t looking for a way out of the inevitable confrontation, which Zoey could only imagine they’d had a hundred times before. His smile was brittle as he said in a deceptively light tone, “You know, Dad, I appreciate the thought, but that really isn’t my thing. I’m happy where I am now.”

Andrew started to argue, but he stopped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. “It’s work. I need to take this. Excuse me, will you?” Tossing his napkin on the table, he stood and walked out.

A long, tense silence fell in his absence. Finally, Max said, the muscles in his jaw flexing with tension, “And that pretty much sums up what it was like growing up with my dad. Would you guys excuse me for a moment? I need some fresh air.” Standing, he dropped his napkin on his chair and stormed away from the table, in the opposite direction as his father.

Zoey ran her hands over her napkin, worrying the fabric, as she watched him leave. She wondered if she should follow him, or if it was better to give him some privacy. Just when she was about to rise to her feet and retrace his steps, his mom – who insisted she call her Abigail - spoke. “I know Andrew seems critical, but he really does love Max. He’s just worried about him.”

Lowering herself back into her chair, Zoey realized she’d lost her appetite. She picked dispiritedly at her food as she offered, “I don’t think he has to, though. Max is happy. He has a good job. He’s the kind of guy any girl would be lucky to have.” Then, wondering if she’d given herself away more than she should, she reached for her wine and took a large sip.

His mother threw her a contemplative look. “Including you?”

She almost choked on her wine and jerked her glass away before she could inhale her wine and humiliate herself. “Who? Me? N-no! Of course not! We’re just friends!” At least, they would be when they returned to California. Erotic nightly dreams about Max aside, she still wasn’t sure she was ready for anything more serious than a casual fling. With everything she was dealing with at the moment, _forever_ seemed like such a long time.

If Abigail noticed he nonplussed reaction, she didn’t remark on it. Instead, she sighed and turned her attention back to her meal. “Andrew and Max have always been like this, I’m afraid. They’ve never understood each other. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t…it’s hard not to worry about your children,” she said abruptly in an apparent change in conversation. “We’ve been very fortunate, but things weren’t always this way. Andrew struggled to get his company started, and he worked hard to get to where he is today. He just wants to make sure that his sons are taken care of, that they don’t have to struggle the way he did. Having the right job, getting the right connections…even marrying into the right family…those things help.”

Zoey picked up her fork and moved some of the roasted potatoes around her plate, just to make it seem like she’d accomplished something. She wasn’t sure what Abigail meant with the _marrying into the right family_ comment, but she had a sneaky suspicion that – as kind as he was – Andrew wouldn’t think she didn’t fit into that category.

The thought made her depressed to a level that was admittedly unreasonable, under the circumstances. She and Max were just friends, after all. Just friends who currently planned to have a sex-filled weekend getaway, to be sure. But still just friends.

As she mulled over her feelings – intentionally avoiding giving any thought to the reasons behind them – Andrew returned to the table. “I’m sorry about this, Abby, sweetheart, but I’m going to have to run. There’s a problem, and I need to get some people on the phone.”

She smiled at her husband, and Zoey noticed the genuine love in their expressions as they exchanged some sort of silent communication. “I understand. Do you want me to stay in the city tonight? I can head out early tomorrow.”

“No, of course not,” he responded. “You take the car tonight. I’ll be late, but I’ll meet you there. Don’t wait up.” After bending to pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he turned to address Zoey with a smile. “Zoey, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you for joining us for dinner. I hate to be rude and leave like this, right in the middle of a meal, but I hope to get a chance to talk with you again at some point this weekend.” He hesitated, and then said stiffly, “Tell Maxwell I said goodbye, will you?”

She nodded, wishing she could look around for Max without it seeming rude. Unsure what else to do, she murmured something polite in response.

When they were alone again, Abigail sighed and placed her napkin gently on the table. “Well, I suppose that will be the end of dinner.”

“Oh, I’m sure Max wouldn’t want you to end things early just because -” she began to protest.

“No, but he’ll be hurt, and he won’t want me to see it, and watching him try to hide it will be even worse.” His mother’s voice was sad but resigned. “Anyway, I probably should get on the road soon anyway.” Reaching out, she took Zoey’s hand. “The two of you should go out tonight and have some fun. I would hate it if our family drama ruined your weekend, and it’s – it’s good to see him smile.”

“I – uh, of course,” she replied weakly, glancing around for their waiter. “Should we –”

“Don’t worry about it. Andrew will have taken care of everything.” She stood, and when she looked down at Zoey, her eyes were warm. “It was a pleasure to finally meet you. I look forward to seeing you and Max tomorrow.”

Zoey nodded, rising to her feet. As Abigail walked out, she headed in the direction she’d last seen Max, searching for him. The two almost ran into each other on his way back in, and he threw her an apologetic smile.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just abandon you back there like that. I just…being around my dad, sometimes I just need a break.”

“No, that’s okay!” she reassured him. “You didn’t abandon me at all. Your mom and I chatted, and…she’s lovely. She really loves you, you know.” She almost told him that his dad did, too, but she had a feeling how that would go.

He grinned. “Yeah, she is pretty great, isn’t she? Did she send you off to search for me?” Something in her face caused his expression to fall. “Oh. Dad had to leave, huh? Let me guess. Business?”

Zoey skirted his question, running her hand down his tie. “Actually, your mom suggested we take in the city, and I think that’s an excellent idea,” she said cheerfully. “Though I may need to change my shoes first, if we’re going to be doing a lot of walking.”

The dark cloud she’d seen passing over him dissipated, and he grabbed her hand and walked with her back outside. “Sounds good to me. You ever been to the Big Apple before?” When she shook her head he grew excited. “All right, then there’s definitely a few things you’re going to need to see. I’ll make a mental list, and we’ll see how many we get through in one night before we collapse from exhaustion!”

She giggled, resting her head on his arm as they strolled back to his parents’ high rise. As they stepped inside, Max gestured back towards the bedroom. “You go ahead and get ready, and I’ll wait out here.” But just as she stepped into the back room, she heard the soft strains of piano chords carry through the apartment and she paused.

Moving slowly, not waiting to make a noise that would give away her presence, she crept back down the hall to see Max, seated at the grand piano. He’d tossed his jacket on back of the couch and rolled up his sleeves, and she was entranced by the way the muscles in his arms flexed as his fingers travelled nimbly over the keys. She didn’t recognize the tune, but it was soft and a little sad.

Zoey stepped further into the room, drawing his attention. She watched him closely, remembering the way those graceful hands of his had danced across her skin. Suddenly, she wasn’t interested in seeing the city. It sounded like a waste of time, when she had so little to spend with him already. At least like this. “Play me something?” she asked in a low, throaty voice.

He hesitated, his hands hovering over the piano keys as he watched her approach. “What did you have in mind?” he asked softly as she leaned against the side of the piano, wanting to watch the expressions pass over his face as he played. In response to her shrug, he asked, “All right, well…how about some Billy Joel?”

She expected him to play a few bars of “Piano Man” but instead, he began to play a song she didn’t recognize, even as he began to sing. _“Here I am again, in this smoky place, with my brandy eyes. And I’m talking to myself. You were the one. You were the one. Here I go again, looking for your face, and I realize. That I should look for someone else, but you were the one. You were the one.”_ His eyes followed her as she stepped around the side at the piano, her gaze dropping to his hands. _“I’m searching for comfort that I can take from someone else, but after all. I know there is no one who can save me from myself. You were the only one…”_

Zoey stepped out of her shoes, keeping her eyes locked on his as she reached behind her to unzip her dress. His hands slipped on the keys, resulting in a discordant sound, and he swallowed heavily.

“I-I thought you wanted to go out,” he said softly as she shrugged out of her dress, letting it pool at her feet.

“I changed my mind.” He reached for her, but she shook her head, stepping out of his reach. Dressed only in a bra and panties, she threw him a playful smile and demanded, “Play me something else.”

Max blinked a couple of times, and his hands trembled as they returned to the piano. Sucking in a deep breath, he glanced at the instrument and started to play, his hands moving gracefully across the keys. He turned his head to watch her as unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the ground on top of her dress, grinning when it caused him to miss another note.

But it was Zoey who was overtaken by desire as he turned his closed his eyes and started to sing softly, the sound almost contemplative, _“Isn’t it strange the way things can change, the life that you lead turned on its head. Suddenly someone means more than you felt before. Her house and its yard turns into home.”_

He opened his eyes, reaching his arm around her waist and pulling her to the side, to stand between him and the piano. Staring up into her eyes, he continued in a voice that was low and heartfelt, _“Sorry but I meant to say many things along the way. But this one’s for you. Have I told you I ache, have I told you I ache? Have I told you I ache for you?”_

She caught her breath, slipping her thumbs under the line of her panties to slide them down her legs. Before they even hit the ground, Max stood, grabbing her waist and lifting her up to rest on the edge of the piano. For a moment, she caught her breath, afraid the instrument would collapse under her, but it was reassuringly solid beneath her weight.

Max wrapped his hand around one foot, his touch gentle as he lifted it to press a kiss on the inner bone to her ankle. Resting her foot on his shoulder and bracing her with one hand, he began to travel slowly up her leg, pressing soft kisses against her skin as he moved closer. She sighed when he reached her thigh, and though she knew she should probably be embarrassed to be so vulnerable and exposed, she spread her legs wider in silent invitation.

His eyes locked on hers, he played a few more notes, and she reveled in the sensation of the gentle vibrations travelling from the piano through her body. In more of a growl than a lilting song, he continued, _“Have I told you I ache? I have I told you I ache? Have I told you I ache for you?”_

She sighed his name when he stopped playing, lifting her thighs to rest them on his shoulders as he bowed his head and slipped his tongue between her folds. He teased her, exploring her with his mouth in slow, leisurely strokes. She caught her breath when he swirled his tongue around her clit, tormenting her slightly by skirting the tiny nub that longed for his touch.

When she tightened her legs around him, he pressed his tongue against her clit and started to hum. One hand released her to fall to the piano, where he played a few notes at random, and the sensation of both vibrations traveling through her at once caused her to lift of the hard wooden surface, reaching down to spear her hands in his hair, holding him in place.

He wrapped his arms over her hips, holding her down as he lapped at her clit until she moaned, her body moving restlessly, leaving blemishes on the glossy black wood. But then his tongue would retreat, returning to its gentle, soothing motions. Again and again he teased her, bringing her close to climax before backing her slowly away from the edge. He thrust his tongue inside her, his teeth scraping gently on her sensitive skin, and she bucked against his mouth.

“Please, Max,” she begged, even as she fought the urge to hold him to her. “Please.” Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled away, sucking the soft skin of her inner thigh. She lifted her head off the piano to meet his eyes. “I want you inside me.”

In one fluid motion, he lifted her off the piano and into his arms, carrying her towards the bedroom. On the way, she struggled to loosen his tie, tossing it to the ground behind her when it finally came undone. His shirt buttons were next, and she almost tore the fabric as she struggled to undo them. After so many nights spent dreaming of what his body would feel like against her own, imagining the feeling of him moving inside her, she was impatient to discover if reality lived up to her fantasies. She wanted to touch the skin he’d first seen bared to her in Mo’s apartment, stroke the hard ridges of his chest and memorize the curve of his muscles.

He laid her gently on the bed, straightening to undo the buttons on his shirt. But she was too impatient to wait, pulling herself up to reach for the button of his slacks. In a matter of moments, he was undressed, his body naked and beautiful, illuminated softly by the dim lights of the city below. She was wet, her body throbbing in longing for his touch, and she scooted back on the bed in silent invitation. She didn’t want to wait anymore.

“You know,” he said lightly, teasing, though his voice was strained, “I wanted to show you around the city tonight.”

She reached for his hand, pulled him onto the bed next to her. “I like my idea better.”

But still, as he moved over her, the muscles in his arms shifting and flexing as he held his weight off of her, he whispered, “Zoey…are you sure?”

Her laugh was breathless and disbelieving. “You’re asking me this now? When we’re both lying naked here like this?”

“I just…I don’t want you to have any regrets. I want you to be sure.”

She reached up, cupping his face in her hand. “I’m sure. I want this, Max. I want you.”

She could swear she the breath leaving his body, as well as some tension she hadn’t been aware he’d been carrying, as he lowered himself on top of her. Worshipping her breasts with his mouth, he swirled his tongue around her nipple before sucking it gently between his teeth.

In response, she moaned his name, clutching at his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his hips. “Please.” She nipped gently at the skin of his shoulder, a gentle punishment for denying her for so long. “Please.”

She caught her breath when he paused and stared down at her, his gaze caressing every line of her face. Brushing her hair off her cheek, he whispered, “God. You are so beautiful.” Zoey responded by tightening her legs around him, silently pleading. He thrust forward, filling her in one smooth motion.

A scream of pleasure she didn’t even expect ripped from her throat and she lifted her hips against his, her body demanding and impatient. Later, they could make love for hours, languorously exploring each others’ bodies as found pleasure over and over. But not now. With the memories of her nocturnal fantasies – and the touch of his hand and mouth – she couldn’t be patient. She wanted him hard and fast, and she thrust her hips at him in a silent demand.

Cursing under his breath, Max accommodated her, pinning her body to the mattress as he thrust into her again and again. Her body trembled beneath him, her nails digging into the corded muscles of his back and her legs locking around his hips as she came. But even as her body shuddered in release, she rolled her body against his, inviting him to follow.

She pulled him down into a kiss, her tongue mirroring the motion of their hips until finally, he lifted off of her to stare into her eyes. She could feel his entire body tense as he came, pouring himself into her body, her name on his lips.


	5. Chapter 5

_Zoey was finished for the day, ready to step on the elevator to leave, when Tobin caught her attention. “Hey,” he greeted her as he preceded her onto the elevator and pushed a button. “I’d say good job with the new code for the SPRQ Watch, but it’s you, so...” he razzed her with an unrepentant grin._

_Bewildered by his comment, she asked, “What? I didn’t write any new code.” He shrugged as the elevator doors slid shut between them. Frowning, she glanced down at her watch, tapping the display, but instead of the usual figures, she saw numbers flash across the face – a slow, inexorable countdown that inspired an inexplicable feeling of dread to wash over her. 4308…4307…4306…_

_“What is this?” she mumbled, tapping the face again as she headed to Joan’s office. Poking her head inside, she asked, “Hey, Joan? Tobin mentioned some new code, but I don’t know what he’s talking about. Now my watch is acting weird. Do you have the same glitch?”_

_Joan shrugged and held her watch up for Zoey to see the time display. “It seems to be working fine to me. It’s your code. Have you ever stopped to wonder if maybe you’re just broken?”_

_“I – what?” she asked in confusion as Joan pushed past her and walked quickly away. Feeling a growing sense of desperation, Zoey looked around the office and almost sighed in relief when she saw Leif. He seemed distracted, his head bowed, as he stared at nothing in particular. “Leif, maybe you can help me. I’m having a problem with the SPRQ Watch. Have you ever seen this before?” She held out her arm so he could see the screen, which continued its merciless countdown. 4284…4283…4282…_

_“Oh, yeah,” he said in a subdued voice. “My watch did that.”_

_“What did you do?” He shrugged. “What…what happens when it hits zero?” she asked her dread morphing into a sort of desperate alarm._

_He looked at her like she was an idiot. “It breaks, of course.”_

_4276…4275…4274…_

_He stood to leave, but she grabbed onto Leif’s arm. “Help me,” she begged. “Help me fix it.”_

_Leif shrugged. “You can’t fix it,” he said, walking away. “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who wrote the code.”_

_No. No, no, no. She looked at the watch again. 4269…4268…4267…4266…4265…_

_“Hey, Zoey.” Max’s voice, warm and familiar, penetrated her panic and she turned to him in relief. “Is everything okay?”_

_She shook her head. “Max, let me see your watch.” He hesitated, so she grabbed his hand and held it up, looking at the band on his wrist. His screen had already gone black. “It’s broken.”_

_He looked at the watch face with a puzzled frown. “It’s not broken, Zoey. You are.”_

_“What? No! What is that supposed to mean?”_

_He bent over to press a kiss against her cheek. “You know what it means.” She shook her head, confused and defiant. “This is what you wanted, right? You wrote the code.”_

She gasped, jolting awake, and took a moment to remember where she was. In the darkness, she reached for Max, reassured by his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing. In the faint light filtering through the blinds, she saw he was laying on his stomach, his head pillowed on his arms, his face peaceful in repose. But as she watched, his eyes fluttered open and he threw her a sleepy smile. “Hey,” he murmured, reaching out to pull her closer to him. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”

“No, I just had a bad dream,” she confessed, curling up against him. The dream had evaporated with her waking, but it still left her vaguely unsettled. Nervous about going back to sleep. “You told me I was broken,” she murmured in the dark, clutching the faint wisps of memory.

“What? Oh, my god. Dream Max is such a jerk! I’ll kick his ass for you, if you want,” he offered, turning over so she could lay her head on his chest. Before she could settle in, however, his stomach gave a loud rumble.

She grinned. “What was that? Did you hear that herd of elephants run through here a minute ago?”

“Well, dinner was interrupted,” he said sheepishly. As she scooted off of him, he yawned and pulled himself into a sitting position. “Maybe I should do something about it. I’ll order something in. You want anything?”

She glanced at the clock in amazement. “Max, it’s three in the morning!”

He shrugged, rummaging through his luggage to pull out a pair of sweatpants. “Yeah, but it’s also New York. You sure you don’t want anything?”

Now that she thought about it, maybe she was a little hungry. “Well…I guess I could go for some dessert.” At his suggestive grin, she blushed and chided him laughingly, “That’s not what I meant!”

“I’m on it. Be right back.” Yawning, he meandered into the other room. She briefly wondered if she should follow, but she was too warm and comfortable, snuggled up in bed, where the pillow still smelled like him.

A short time later, Max strolled back in. “Ooh, what’d you get?” she asked eagerly, reaching for the bags in his arms. The blankets pooled around her waist as she sat up, and Max stopped in his tracks.

“Hold on there, grabby!” he teased her. “I got some dessert, but first, I thought we should have some actual food. So I ordered some sushi from a great place I know nearby. You want any?” When she shook her head, he put the bags aside before reaching in and pulling out a small container. Crouching by the bed, he trailed the back of one finger leisurely up her arm as he murmured, “I was about to go grab us some plates, but I think I just had a better idea.”

“What?” she breathed when his hand trailed softly along her collarbone. Seeing his wicked smile, she gasped. “Really?”

Max nodded, tracing a line between her breasts. “Really. Unless you don’t want to?”

It would be a first for her, which she supposed should make her nervous, but she wasn’t. “It isn’t that. I just can’t believe you’re not tired,” she commented, laying back against the pillows. He grabbed her hands and gently lifted them to the headboard, guiding her to grasp the edge of the mattress.

“Of you? Never,” he promised. “Now close your eyes.” Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, she did as she asked, straining her hearing to try to track his movements. The bed shifted under his weight, and she heard him move into the other room. When he returned a moment later, he sat down beside her and laid a strip of soft, silk fabric across her eyes. “This is one of my ties. For what I have in mind, I really don’t want you to peek. I want to blindfold you with this, but if you’re not comfortable with that, I can just leave it like this and you can remove it at any time. Okay?”

She couldn’t explain the hot flush of arousal that she felt at the idea of being blindfolded. She’d never thought that she would be turned on by such a thing, but her inner muscles clenched as she whispered, “You can blindfold me if you want.” He grinned, moving quickly to do so, and she settled back on the pillow after he checked to make sure she couldn’t peek.

As he moved away from the bed once more, she heard him open his plastic container. Then there was silence. She shivered when he placed a piece of sushi on her breast, the rice cold against her skin. Slowly, carefully, he placed sushi in a trail across her chest and down her stomach.

Max’s weight shifted on the mattress, and she struggled to figure out what was going on without the use of her eyesight. A bag rustled, and then she felt him place something in the curve of his navel. It didn’t feel like sushi, but she couldn’t place it and didn’t want to spoil his fun by removing the blindfold. “What’s that?”

“You’ll see,” he teased her. The mattress shifted again as he moved to kneel between her legs. Zoey caught her breath as she felt him lean over her and trembled when she felt his warm breath caress her breasts. Using his tongue, he captured the piece of sushi placed precariously over her left nipple, his lips brushing her sensitive skin as he sucked it between his teeth.

Zoey sucked in a ragged breath when his tongue circled around her areola. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice amused, stilling her with a steady hand. “You don’t want to make a mess.” She tried to hold still but she moaned when he drew her nipple into his mouth, scraping it gently with his teeth as he teased her with his tongue.

She shifted her legs restlessly as he moved to the other side, pressing a trail of warm kisses and tiny flicks of his tongue along the underside of her breasts. She moaned as he repeated his ministrations, gasping aloud when he lifted his head and blew softly across her moist flesh.

“Max…I…” she breathed, struggling to remain still. She lowered her hands, blindly reaching for him, but he grabbed them and gently returned them to their position on the bed. “Not yet,” he whispered. “I’m still hungry.”

With a moan of frustrated arousal, she gripped the mattress hard as he returned to her stomach, leisurely eating the next piece of sushi, licking a stray piece of rice from her skin. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her quivering flesh, licking her clean, before moving on to the next piece to start the process all over.

He paused just above her navel and asked. “It’s time for dessert. How do you feel about whipped cream?” His voice was deeper than usual, strained, and she felt a rush of satisfaction at the realization he was struggling to control his arousal.

“Whipped cream?” she asked, her brain too overwhelmed with need to understand the words at first. “What do you -?” he dropped his hand, his fingers swiping inside her with a feather-light touch, and she jerked. “Oh…oh god…” she breathed, even as she nodded her consent.

She heard Max chuckle, the sound slightly strangled. He grabbed her knees, spreading them slightly further apart, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of whipped cream spraying from a can. The frothy mixture was cool against her skin, making her tremble with longing, and she held her breath as she waited to see what he would do next.

He kissed the soft curve of her stomach. “Are you hungry?” he asked, and when she responded with a jerky nod, he grabbed the food in her navel between his teeth and leaned down, swirling it in the whipped cream. She felt the mattress shift under her as he brought the treat to her parted lips and bit, moaning as the crisp taste of strawberry filled her mouth. Swallowing quickly, she lifted her head in search of another bite, their lips and tongues sweeping against each other as he relinquished his prize.

“Another?” he growled, and she nodded, so he repeated the process, dipping the strawberry in the whipped cream that covered her and bringing it back to her mouth. “More?” he breathed when she was finished, and she shook her head wildly. She was hungry, but not for strawberries.

“All right. My turn.” Max grabbed her legs, pulling her down on the bed, spreading her wide as he knelt before her. She gripped the sheets hard in both hands and threw her legs over his shoulders as he bowed his head and began to lick the melting whipped cream off her body. Zoey threw her head back, every nerve in her body focused on the pleasure he was giving her with his tongue, his lips, his teeth. Slowly, methodically, he cleaned her, his tongue sweeping between her folds as he grabbed her thighs and held her in place.

Her legs trembled as she came, but he was merciless, his mouth bringing her to orgasm again. And again. While her muscles were still quivering in the aftermath of her pleasure, he rose and thrust into her. Zoey screamed, a loud bark of triumph, as he caressed her breasts, spreading herself wide to him. Releasing her hold on the sheets, she reached for him, her hands sliding against his skin, slick with sweat, but she had to let go when he grabbed her hips, lifting her off the bed as he thrust into her. Bracing her with one hand, he slid the other between her thighs, slipping his thumb into her to press against her clit, and it sent her tumbling over the edge. As her muscles tightened and spasmed around him, he let out a soft cry, his whole body stiffening as he poured himself inside her.

* * *

Spent from their activities the night before, Zoey and Max overslept the next morning, forcing them into a mad dash to shower, throw their things together, and get on the road. A little tender from the night before, Zoey tossed back a couple of Advil with her birth control pill as she twisted the knob to turn on the hot water. She heard Max move around in the bedroom and poked her head through the door to throw him a mischievous smile. “You know, if we’re in a hurry, you can join me in the shower and save some time.”

Max grinned, bending down to steal a kiss. “If I join you, we’ll be late, and you know it.”

“Yeah…but I still wouldn’t mind.”

He laughed and stared at her in mock affront. “Woman, I am not a machine!” he teased, sliding his hand over her ass and pulling her against him as he stole a hard kiss from her lips. “Ask me again tonight,” he whispered before releasing her.

Pouting, she hopped into the shower, racing to get ready. Her hair was still slightly damp as they made their way down to the car, and she ducked into the back seat as Max loaded the luggage into the trunk. He yawned as he joined her, slamming the door behind him, and leaned his head back against the soft leather seat.

“Tired?” she asked, throwing him her best innocent smile. At his wry look, she scooted to the far side of the car and patted her lap. “You can lay down and try to get some rest if you want.”

Max shifted in the confined space, sprawling out on his back. With one leg on the floor and the other knee resting against the back of the seat, it couldn’t have been the most comfortable position for him, but he sighed with contentment as he laid his head in her lap. He grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest, and it wasn’t long before she felt his breathing grow slow and steady. She ran her fingers soothingly through his hair, watching as his face relaxed into repose.

God, she loved…She broke off that thought with a jolt, her fingers stilling against his scalp. His face. Surely she’d been about to say his face. Zoey tried to push the thought out of her mind as she laid her head back against the seat. According to Max, they had a few hours’ drive to stay with the bride’s parents in New Bedford that night. Early the next morning, the whole party would make the rest of the trip to their home in Martha’s Vineyard, where the wedding was actually to take place. Settling in for the long drive, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

She awoke a while later to Max’s name voice in her ear, murmuring her name. Blinking, she tried to clear the cobwebs from her mind as she looked out the window. Max had referred to Caroline’s parents’ home as a “cottage” but the word seemed to have no actual connection with reality. Calling this home a cottage was like calling Disney World a carnival.

“This is their home?” she breathed, stepping out of the car to gaze at the structure in front of her. She had a feeling her entire apartment could fit into the bathroom of a place like this.

Max shook his head. “No. This is the guest house. The main house is over there.”

She followed the direction of his nod and actually gasped when she saw their family home. “Oh, wow. So if your family owns their own plane, theirs owns…”

“A whole airline?” he finished for her with a grin. “Something like that. Come on. Let’s get settled in, and then I’ll go introduce you. You’ll love Caroline. She’s great.”

When he led her inside and showed her the room that had been set up for her, she discovered her suspicions about the apartment-to-bathroom ratio had been pretty spot-on. “You know, you could stay here with me,” she offered suggestively when he broke off to go into the next room.

Max lifted his eyebrows at her. “I thought you’d want to keep up appearances.”

“Ah…right,” she agreed meekly, swallowing any further protest. When this weekend was over, they had to let things go back to normal, and that meant not letting anyone suspect their short-term affair. The thought was enough to remind her that she was about to meet several strangers, which was nerve-wracking for her at the best of times – let alone when many were current or future members of her best friend’s family.

Feeling slightly intimidated, and aware they would be attending a rehearsal dinner in a few hours, she hastily changed into a sleeveless emerald green dress and heels. It took her a few more minutes to touch up her makeup and slip on some earrings, but when she fumbled with the clasp on the necklace she’d borrowed from Mo, she wandered into the other room to find Max.

Her breath caught at the sight of him, dressed all in black, wearing a high-necked shirt under his suit jacket. Zoey held out the necklace to him as she approached and then turned without a word, lifting her hair to give him easy access.

Instead of a necklace, he pressed the warmth of his kiss against the nape of her neck, his hands sliding down her bare arms. “You look amazing.”

Smiling, she leaned back against him. “And you’re stalling.”

“Only a little,” he admitted, though he straightened and finished clasping on her necklace. Then, grabbing her hand, the two headed outside, strolling across the lawn to the main house.

She heard the low buzz of chatter coming from the back yard as they approached and rounded the corner to find about a dozen or so people milling about. She recognized Max’s parents, of course, as well as his brother Lee, who she’d seen in photos hung up in his apartment. The statuesque blonde on his arm had to be his fiancé, Caroline, but she had no idea who the dark-haired woman on Caroline’s other side could be.

Max seemed to recognize her, though, because there was a hitch in his stride as they approached. He hesitated, as though wanting to speak, but then Lee waved at them and their moment of semi-privacy was lost. Zoey shot him a confused glance as they approached the group, but she couldn’t read his thoughts through the forced smile on his face. “Congratulations, you two,” he greeted the bride and groom warmly, leaning in for a hug. “Let me introduce you to Zoey.”

“Zoey, it’s so nice to meet you.” Lee said warmly, shaking her hand as his fiancé stepped forward.

“I’m so glad you could come,” Caroline greeted her, pulling her in for a hug as she murmured her own congratulations. “I’ve heard so much about you!” At Zoey’s incredulous look, she grinned and admitted, “Well…I suppose I should say Lee has heard so much about you from Max, and I’ve heard about you from Lee.”

Zoey smiled, turning her attention to the beautiful dark-haired stranger in their group. Stepping back, Lee said, “Oh, let me introduce you to the maid of honor. Zoey, this is Nicole. Nicole, Zoey and Max work together at SPRQ Point.”

Nicole’s smile was friendly but uncertain as she reached out to take her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her gaze drifted to Max, and he shifted closer to Zoey, placing his hand on the small of her back. “You two are just friends?”

There was something she was clearly missing, and she didn’t know what it was but her ignorance made her nervous. “Oh, yeah,” Zoey blurted before he could answer. “Pssh. Max and me? Totally just…” she sliced her hand through the air like the blade of a knife and stressed, “ _friends_. Just here…for Lee’s wedding…being friends. Right Max?” When Nicole looked at her in mild bemusement, she blushed. “I’m rambling, aren’t I? I’m sorry. It’s just that I could cut the subtext between the two of you with a knife, and I’m not always that good with _actual_ text. Oh, and I sometimes ramble when I get nervous.”

Lee and Caroline exchanged a quick glance before exchanging a silent look at Max. Caroline was blushing, and nobody seemed to quite know what to say. Finally, Max said in a soft voice, “I’m sorry, Zoey. I should have told you. I didn’t realize – well, Nicole is an old friend of mine. She’s also…” His voice trailed off as though he was trying to find the right words.

It was his father, Andrew, who finally told her what nobody else seemed to know how to explain. “Nicole is Maxwell’s former fiancée.”


	6. Chapter 6

“His…fiancé?” Zoey breathed, looking up at Max. He wasn’t looking at her, but the muscle in his jaw was clenched. She felt a little lightheaded. Max had been engaged at some point? How had she not known that?

An awkward and tense silence that fell between the group, until Caroline said, “Oh, where are my manners? I haven’t offered either of you any refreshments! Zoey, come with me. Let’s get you something from the bar. Lee, honey, why don’t you get your brother something to drink?” Linking their arms together, Caroline gently guided Zoey away from the group, chattering about the weather as they stepped through the patio door into the house.

When they were alone and out of view of the other guests, Caroline gave her arm a quick squeeze and murmured, “I hope you don’t mind me getting you out of there. You looked like you needed a moment. Come on; I know just what will help.” Leading her to a nearby bar, she started mixing a cocktail as Zoey gratefully slid into a bar stool.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” she asked, watching as Caroline deftly mixed some ingredients with more skill than one would expect from someone whose experience as a bartender extended only so far as mixing drinks for friends at home.

Caroline laughed. “From my rebellious phase, of course. It’s actually how Lee and I met.” Lowering her voice, she said conspiratorially, “But don’t tell anyone that because our parents all think we met at some sort of charity art show. We all have our little secrets.”

It was a subtle way to offer a sympathetic ear if Zoey wanted to talk about it, and she decided to take the bait. “I don’t know what came over me out there,” she confessed, rubbing the space between her eyes. “I mean, Max and I are just friends.”

Caroline threw her a sympathetic smile. “And that’s kind of a big thing you’d think you’d know about your best friend, right?”

“I guess.”

Sliding some sort of pink cocktail in front of Zoey, Caroline rested her elbows on the bar and said, her smile falling, “I’m sorry. Lee and I didn’t mean to spring her on the two of you. I guess we thought you both already knew she would be here. We were all pretty close in college, even after…” Her voice trailed off, and she sighed. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised Max doesn’t talk about it very much. He swore he was fine, after, but he took the end of their relationship pretty hard.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

Caroline grimaced. “I don’t mind, but I also don’t know that it’s my place to say.”

Dejected and confused – and, okay, admittedly a little hurt Max had never mentioned his prior engagement before – Zoey plopped her elbows on the bar and cupped her chin in her hands. “You can’t tell me _anything_?” she pleaded, throwing Caroline her most pitiful expression.

Leaning in, Caroline asked pointedly, “Now, why are you so curious? There wouldn’t be something you’re not telling me about you and Max, is there?”

Zoey blushed. “No! Of course not! I just don’t want to upset Max by asking about it if it’s a painful subject. But I also don’t want to do or say anything that would make things worse.”

Her companion stared at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed. “You know what? You’re a little devious. I had a feeling I was gonna like you.” Grabbing a bottle, she started to mix herself a drink as she thought it over. “I can’t tell you about their breakup.” Seeing Zoey’s expression, she said defensively, “No, really, I can’t! It was all kind of a mess back then – everyone was friends with everyone else, and with everyone else’s friends, so Lee and I tried not to get in the middle. Besides, Max made it pretty clear he didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t want to pry. But I can tell you that it came as a shock to everyone when it happened. The rest of us…well, we were walking disaster areas when it came to our love lives. Max and Nicole were solid. They never even had a fight that we knew of before the breakup.”

Max and Nicole were _solid?_ Caroline couldn’t have said that they had clearly been all wrong for each other, and it was obvious they never really loved each other anyway? Not that it mattered, she reminded herself fiercely, because she and Max were just friends. But, still, she dodged having to deal with her own emotions by dancing around the subject. “You and Lee weren’t together in college?”

Caroline snorted. “God, no. Everyone would have sworn we hated each other back then.” At Zoey’s surprised look, she shrugged with wry smile. “We’d had a one-night stand, and…well, that’s a long story that I should probably not share when my grandma could walk in at any minute and have a heart attack. Just take it from me. Denial is a powerful thing.” Then, in a deceptively casual tone, she said, “But, then, I have a feeling you already know that.”

“I-I…” Zoey stammered.

“You have a little hickey. Right here,” Caroline said with a wink, gesturing to a spot under her left ear.

Blanching, she reached a hand up to cover the indicated area. “Really?” she gasped.

Her companion laughed and shook her head. “No. But the fact you thought there could be is all I needed to know!”

Zoey stared at her with wide eyes and then burst out into a startled fit of laughter. “You…you’re a little devious too, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Caroline replied with a grin, grabbing Zoey’s arm and pulling her gently off the bar stool. “Come on. We should head back outside. This is supposed to be my party, after all. Can’t leave Lee to the masses for too long.”

“So. Me and Max…is it that obvious?” she asked in an undertone.

Caroline threw her a reassuring look, placing her hand on Zoey’s shoulder. “Not to someone who hasn’t been in your shoes. But for someone who knows what to look for? Girl, it took thirty seconds after I met you for me to see the way your face lights up when you look at him.”

She balked and stumbled, pulling her companion to a stop as she looked at her in horror. “But…but I…it doesn’t, though! I mean, I don’t! Light up around Max, that is.” Her companion looked at her with something akin to pity, and Zoey blushed. “I-I mean, we’re just friends. And maybe…okay….this weekend things are a little…but that doesn’t mean…it doesn’t mean _anything_ , you know?”

“If you say so,” Caroline murmured, patting Zoey on the shoulder as she was called away by an elderly couple, who were eager to congratulate the bride and groom.

Left to her own devices once more, and feeling the tiniest bit of a buzz after drinking a cocktail on an empty stomach, Zoey’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Max. She finally spotted him off to the side, in a private conversation with Nicole. His ex-fiancée. That he had been so _solid_ with at one time. Of course.

As she watched, Nicole wrapped her arms around Max’s neck, and he pulled her in for a hug, her chin resting on his shoulder. The sight of the two of them together, and the reminder of what they had once been to each other, made her inexplicably sad, and the fact that that it made her sad made her angry. As did the question lurking in the back of her mind: How had Caroline, a complete stranger, read her so easily when Max – her best friend in the _entire world_ – was so oblivious? Never mind that she didn’t want to face her own feelings, let alone wanting to open them up to him.

When he looked up and caught her eye, Zoey threw him a tight smile. Her unreasonable anger, frustration, and hurt only grew when she saw him murmur something to her before pulling away to return to Zoey’s side. “Hey,” he greeted her, his voice warm but a little cautious and uncertain. “I was wondering where you and Caroline had disappeared to.”

“Oh, we were just getting a drink.” she said, dying of curiosity to know what the two had discussed but not even sure herself why she cared. Or why it hurt so much that he hadn’t told her that he’d once been engaged. Was it just because they were friends, and she’d told him all about her epic romantic failings? She was just drunk enough to want to ask him about it, but just sober enough to realize that was probably a bad idea.

Confused and uncertain, angry and hurt, she tried to push all her conflicting emotions aside to focus on the moment. Linking her arm in his, she nodded towards the party. “C’mon, Max. Let’s mingle.”

Though he threw her a small frown, he didn’t protest as the two of them made the rounds, Max introducing Zoey to various family members who had travelled in for the occasion. Zoey tried to take her mind off all of her questions about Max’s former relationship with Nicole the whole time, but it was impossible to do so. Every time Zoey turned around, Nicole was there. Talking with Max’s aunt. Sitting next to Caroline at dinner. Dancing with Max’s brother. Practicing walking down the aisle on Max’s arm, as they would have to do at the wedding, in their roles as Best Man and Maid of Honor. Over. And over. And over. And, more often than not, looking at Max with such poignant longing on her face that even Zoey – who had never been very good with other people’s emotions (or even her own) prior to obtaining her superpowers – couldn’t help but notice.

Every time, it was like a punch to the gut and she felt a rising swell of anger and hurt and…something else that she couldn’t even identify. And, just as before, she didn’t know why.

So it was basically her worst nightmare when she ran into Nicole in the ladies’ restroom, when they both stopped in to freshen up after the rehearsal dinner. She was washing her hands when she heard the door open and caught sight of Nicole in the mirror, throwing her a bashful smile.

“Oh, uh…Zoey, right? I love your dress,” Nicole said softly.

She forced a smile. It wasn’t Nicole’s fault her very existence inspired so many conflicting emotions. “Thanks. Yours, too,” she murmured, heading for the door.

Before she could leave, Nicole blurted, “You and Max…you’re friends, right?” It seemed like she was leading to something, so Zoey hesitated, turning back towards her with a nod. “I…I know I’m probably totally out of line, here, and you have every right to tell me to mind my own business, but…I just need to know. Max…is he happy?”

Though she was reluctant to get into this discussion, she didn’t see a polite way to get out of it. So she said slowly, “Well, I…I guess I can’t really say for sure. You’d have to ask him. But I think he is.”

“Is he seeing someone?” It was a bridge too far, and she seemed to know it because she blurted, “I’m sorry. That was probably out of line. I shouldn’t have asked that.” Meeting Zoey’s eyes in the mirror, she said, “It’s just…he was kind of the one that got away, you know?”

“Ahhhhh…” she vocalized on a long sight. “Not really, I guess? I mean…I don’t really know what happened with you two. I _really_ don’t want to pry.” Or have this conversation with Nicole rather than Max, but that seemed rude to point out.

“Oh,” Nicole breathed, her face falling. “Max never mentioned me at all?” She bit her lip, her eyes downcast. “I-I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Our breakup…I handled things badly. I hurt him, and I didn’t mean to. It was just…we were so _young_ , you know?” Zoey nodded her head, although she didn’t really know at all. “And I guess…I got freaked out about…everything. It seemed like there was so much pressure on our parents to get married, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that! Or that either of us were!” Throwing Zoey a sheepish look, she said, “I just needed time, but he was _so_ ready to be married, you know? He was so excited about it, it just felt like he kept pushing, and pushing, and _pushing._ And I guess I thought…I don’t know…that there were other guys like Max out there, and if I lost him…” Her voice trailed off with a shrug.

Nicole had given her a lot to unpack, but Zoey found she could only focus on a small snippet of her confession. Max had been so ready to marry her. He’d been so excited about wanting to marry her. He must have really, _really_ loved her.

While she felt her heart fall through the floor, Nicole stepped towards her and asked conspiratorially, “Can I tell you a secret?”

Nope. Absolutely not. No way. There was no chance in hell that Zoey wanted to hear what she was about to say, and so she said desperately, “Oh, I don’t really think -”

Nicole ignored her, grinning excitedly as she shared, “I’ve talked to Max a little today, and I think we really could give this a second shot. And I know…well, he said something about wanting to talk to you first about it, because he was worried that you might be hurt or have gotten the wrong idea. Since he invited you to his brother’s wedding and all. You know how Max is; he’s just so sweet and thoughtful, and he worries about things too much! I mean, you guys are _just friends_. And I know that, you know, as his friend, you’re probably _super_ protective of him. I totally get that! But I just…I wanted to reassure you that I really am crazy about him, and…and if we do decide to give our relationship another chance, I would never, _ever_ hurt him.”

“Oh,” Zoey breathed, trying not to cry. Trying not to appear like she was trying not to cry. “I…I’m glad to hear it. As long as…as Max is happy, then I…excuse me.” Unable to bear the conversation anymore, she raced out of the bathroom. Wanting to cry. Wanting to puke. Wanting to scream and yell and hit things until she was too exhausted to be angry or confused or hurt or…or whatever it was she was feeling. When she shouldn’t be feeling anything at all for Max – her _best friend_ – other than joy in his happiness. And she did want him to be happy, really. Even if it wasn’t with her.

 _Even if it wasn’t with her?_ A tiny shred of doubt whispered in the back of her mind. _Are you sure about that?_

Amid the tangle of confused emotions she was experiencing, two stood out in particular: rage and pain. She didn’t want to face the latter, so she embraced the former. She stormed out of the restaurant, angry at Nicole for making her feel like hopes she hadn’t even known she had were destroyed. Angry at her for existing. Angry at Max for having put her in this position, and never having told her he’d been engaged before.

“Zoey? Is…everything okay?” he murmured when she rejoined him on the sidewalk.

“Everything is fine,” she replied in clipped tones, looking around to ensure they weren’t being overheard by his family and friends. “I was just having a chat with Nicole. She was telling you all about your breakup.” Even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was deliberately stretching the truth to try to provoke a reaction out of him and even she didn’t understand why.

He winced and took a little half-step back. “I really wish she hadn’t done that.”

“Really? Because my question is, why didn’t you?” Though she kept her voice low to avoid drawing attention to the two of them, her smile was brittle as she leaned in. “I thought we were friends, Max. Why didn’t you ever tell me you were engaged?”

Just then, their car pulled up at the curb, and Max gave it a little nod. “Zoey, I don’t know what…look, we need to talk about this. In private.”

She nodded, and he took her hand, helping her into the backseat. The ride back to the guest house was silent and strained, as Zoey tried to focus more on her anger than the underlying questions behind it. _Why did it matter? Why did hearing about Max and Nicole’s past – and possible future – hurt so much?_ He grabbed her hand again as he led her inside, but as the front door shut behind them, he released her hand and said, “Okay, I know I probably should have told you about Nicole, but it didn’t seem important…”

“It didn’t seem important?” she parroted, turning on him, finally releasing the anger that had consumed her ever since she’d first met Nicole on the lawn, several hours before. It was almost a relief to give into it, to let it wash over her and drown out the hurt. The doubt. And what was distinctly beginning to feel like jealousy.

He held his hands up, looking baffled. “I…no? It was in the past, and…Look, I really don’t understand why you’re so angry with me right now. What did Nicole tell you?”

“Oh, really? You can’t?” she snapped, ignoring his question. That she couldn’t either seemed irrelevant. When he shook his head, she put her hands on her hips and latched onto the first excuse that came to mind. “I-I thought we were friends, Max! How could you keep something like that from me?”

“It’s not that I kept it from you!” he said defensively but with growing frustration of his own. “It was in the past! It didn’t even occur to me that I might see her this weekend. Would you _please_ tell me why you’re so angry right now?”

She shook her head. “Because that’s a big thing that happened in your life, and you never told me about it! We’re friends, and friends don’t keep secrets from each other.”

Although he’d been on the defensive, her accusation seemed to make him snap. “They don’t?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s news to me!”

Though she felt a strange self-satisfaction that she had finally provoked a reaction out of him his statement caught her off guard. “What-what is that supposed to mean?”

He stepped closer. “When did you start having dreams about me, Zoey?”

Her jaw dropped. “I – what does that have to do with anything?” she demanded, her voice raising.

“You tell me. You’re the one who wanted this to be about sex!”

She glared up at him when he moved closer. “Yeah? Well, I guess I’ve changed my mind! Because I don’t want to do _this_ – whatever _this_ is – anymore!”

She had raised her hand to point at him, but he grabbed it. His eyes were angry as he demanded, “Then what _do_ you want, Zoey? Because I’ve been trying to figure that out for a while, now, and I sure as hell don’t know the answer!”

 _I don’t know_. But was that really the truth? Didn’t she really know what she wanted, deep down?

She wasn’t ready to face that yet, so she launched herself at him instead, the skirt of her dress tangling around his legs as he lifted her off the ground. She told herself she was angry, but her hands were desperate when the ran through his hair, giving it a tug to tilt his head back as her mouth sought out his. Max turned, pressing her against the wall, and slid his knee between her legs to pin her in place.

They tore at each other’s clothes, seams popping in their haste. Zoey yanked his shirt over his head and threw it aside, but he couldn’t remove her clothes without changing their position. So instead, he slid is hand between her thighs, stroking her through her underwear until she trembled in his arms.

She bent to kiss him, but he evaded her kiss. His voice was no longer angry, but it was insistent as he demanded, “Why did you get so angry a minute ago?” Even as he asked the question, he slid his fingers under the hem of her panties, slipping them inside her.

She tilted her head back so he couldn’t see the tears that came to her eyes – either from frustrated longing or an inexplicable sorrow she wasn’t yet ready to face. “I-I don’t know,” she moaned when his thumb circled her clit, teasing her.

“Yes, you do. What do you want, Zoey?”

“I-I don’t know,” she lied, but he wasn’t letting her off the hook so easily.

Quickening the rhythm of his fingers sliding in and out of her, he nipped gently at her lower lip until she gasped. “What do you want?” he repeated.

“I…I want you to fuck me.”

“No.” His hand stilled, and when she growled and squirmed against him, he still didn’t continue. “Zoey. _What do you want?_ ”

She looked into his eyes, saw the frustration there, and heard the lingering traces of anger in his voice. But she was still too scared of facing the truth to answer. “I-” she began desperately, shaking her head. Max shook his head, starting to draw away. She felt the muscles in his leg shift as he began to lower her to the ground, and she clutched at his shoulders, silently imploring him to stop.

“Max, please,” she breathed, and he hesitated. Somewhere deep down, she knew that this was one of those “make or break” moments in life. She could continue to deny the truth to him – and to herself – and end _whatever_ it was there was between them. Or she could give him what truth to the extent she was able and pray he could be patient with her while she tried to sort out the rest.

She was scared of what the truth would mean, but her fear of ruining _whatever_ lay between them was stronger. Meeting his eyes, she whispered, “You, Max. I want you.”

Ever since their first kiss on the plane, Zoey had thought that she had witnessed the depth of Max’s passion. She’d seen him confident and demanding, his self-satisfaction when he brought her to orgasm with the touch of his hands or with his mouth. She’d heard the aching plea in his voice when she held him at her mercy and he begged for her to bring him to release. But in the aftermath of her confession, she realized the thin thread of control Max had managed to maintain thus far. Even when he was begging, part of him was in control. Of himself. Of his emotions. Of his desire.

But when he heard her confession, something in him seemed to snap. His arms shook as he lifted her again, pressing her hard against the wall. The strength of his desire crashed over her, sweeping her away, as he grabbed her hair and tugged, tilting her head back to kiss her mouth, her jaw, the curve of her neck. She lost herself in his passion, only vaguely registering the gentle bite of his teeth against her neck, her shoulder.

A moment later and he thrust inside her, hard enough to drive her back against the wall. Almost hard enough to hurt. She felt him struggle to regain control of himself, but she clutched at his hair, holding him in place. “I want you, Max,” she whispered in his ear. Reveling in the effect her words had on him. Reveling in the truth.

“Zoey…” He moaned her name, pressing his forehead against the curve of her neck as he thrust into her. She tightened her legs around his waist, closing her eyes as she relished the feel of him in her arms. His fingers dug into her skin as she arched against him, drawing him in, her body betraying what her heart wasn’t ready to confess.

_I love you._

She felt his orgasm overtake him, felt the trembling in his arms and the gasping breaths fanning against her skin. He pressed a soft kiss against the curve of her clavicle, a silent apology for his former roughness, and put her gently back onto her feet. Her underwear was twisted from where he had pushed it aside, and she pulled them quickly back into place as he tucked himself back inside his pants.

The silence stretched between them, awkward with all the things left unsaid. Finally, he stepped towards her. Tucking his forefinger under her chin, he tilted her head back so he could look in her eyes. “Zoey…we need to talk.”


	7. Chapter 7

Max had been friends with Zoey – had been in love with Zoey – for so long that there were times that he felt like he could read her mind just by watching the expression in her eyes. He wondered if she knew it, since she immediately dropped her gaze as she stepped away. “Yeah, I guess we do,” she murmured.

She rolled her shoulders, causing the fabric of her dress to shift, and then set her jaw and looked up at him. “Max, I-I know there’s something you’ve been wanting to tell me, and…and I want you to know it’s okay. I understand.”

His first thought was that she had figured him out, that she had somehow discovered his feelings for her. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; he was pretty sure he’d done a horrible job of hiding them over the last couple of days. But he found himself hoping that he was wrong, because, if so, she hardly looked happy about it. She looked like she was about to face a firing squad, which wasn’t exactly the reaction one wanted to receive from the love of one’s life when discussing one’s feelings.

“Ah…okay. That’s…great,” he said slowly. Nope. Taking his time to let his brain work through the possibilities to determine what she was talking about wasn’t helping. Squinting slightly, he cocked his head to the side and asked, “I’m sorry, what is it that I want to tell you?”

She blew out a heavy breath threw pursed lips and threw him a frustrated look. “About you and Nicole.” When he didn’t respond right away, she rolled her eyes at him. “Look, I think…she’s probably wonderful, and I think…I’m okay if you should give your relationship another shot.”

“Oh.” The penny had started to drop when Zoey mentioned Nicole’s name, but it seemed to jam somewhere in between his mental gears a little before she finished her explanation. Her suggestion that he renew his relationship with his ex caused so many conflicting emotions, he wasn’t sure which to act on first. There was hurt, of course, that the woman he loved so much was advocating for him to love another. Frustration, that she was trying to run his life for him. Confusion about what caused her to think he wanted to get back together with Nicole in the first place. Hope that maybe he detected a hint of jealousy in her tone. “Do I get a say in this, or..." he let his voice trail off.

Zoey blushed. “Of course you – I didn’t mean to make it seem like…it’s just, when I talked to Nicole, she said…” As though realizing she’d said too much, she snapped her mouth closed and looked at him with wide eyes.

Max felt an old, familiar wave of anger wash over him. “You talked to Nicole? What did she say?” Zoey just shook her head, so he stepped forward and asked in a lower voice, “Zoey, I need to know. What did she say?”

“I shouldn’t have…She…she said she thought the two of you could give your relationship another shot. She said…she said she still loves you.”

“She still…” Later, Max would regret that he hadn’t taken one more moment to talk to Zoey, to tell her what was going on. But when he heard those words, he could think of only one thing. He had to talk to Nicole.

Spinning on his heel, he stormed out of the house, striding quickly across the lawn to the main house. All the lights were on and it was still early, so he assumed everyone was still awake. Trying to get a grip on his emotions, he walked up to the front desk and knocked. A moment later, Lee answered it with a look of surprise.

Before he could say anything, Max asked, “Hey, is Nicole here? I need to talk to her for a second.”

“Ah…sure,” Lee said, calling over his shoulder.

A moment later, Nicole appeared behind him, a hopeful smile on her face. “Max!” she greeted him warmly, stepping out onto the porch while he stepped back, moving a little away from the house.

He ignored her warm greeting. “Nicole. What did you say to Zoey?” he asked, biting off his words in anger.

Her face was a study in wide-eyed innocence, but he’d stopped falling for that act a long time ago. “What do you mean? I didn’t -”

“What did you say to her?” he repeated, his voice raising. When she still didn’t answer, he demanded, “Did you forget our deal, Nicole? I wouldn’t tell anyone why we broke up, and you’d stay out of my life. Out of _my family’s_ lives. Now _what did you say to Zoey?_ ”

“Max.” He heard Zoey murmur his name as she approached from behind him, her voice sad. “She didn’t…don’t be angry. She didn’t say anything bad to me, I promise.”

Nicole’s attention shifted from Max to Zoey, and back to Max again. “Baby, don’t be mad. I just told her that I wanted us to try again.” She stepped toward him, reaching out to put her hands on his chest. “I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry. But we belong together, you and I. You know it.”

His bark of laughter was harsh, disbelieving. “Belong together? You must be kidding.”

“No, I’m not! I know you’re still angry. And hurt. I never should have given up on us. But…”

“You didn’t give up on us, Nicole. You were just honest for once and stopped pretending that you ever cared about me as anything other than a way to get closer to Lee.”

Max heard a gasp and assumed it was from Zoey. He felt a stab of regret that it was all coming out this way, in front of her. It was humiliating to admit in front of her how much he’d been used, and how naïve he had been. This was a conversation he and Nicole should have had years ago. If he’d realized that Lee and Caroline were still close with Nicole, he’d have tried to find a way to break it to them sooner. But that was the disadvantage of having a strained relationship with his family for so long. They never mentioned Nicole, and he’d never thought to ask.

He thought about ending the conversation here, but it was too late. He’d taken the blame years before, out of shame and embarrassment, and a heart he’d thought was broken. But he hadn’t realized what it was like to really love someone until he met Zoey, and finding out that Nicole was trying to worm his way between the two of them was more than he was willing to accept. The thought of Zoey pitying him hurt, but the thought of losing her hurt even more.

Max didn’t let her continue with her lies. He shot Zoey a sad look. “Oh, I guess Nicole didn’t bother to mention that when she said she thought we should get back together? She was fine with dating me when Lee was going through his rebellious phase and she thought there was a chance dad might cut him off. As if that would ever happen. But when Lee and dad reconciled, she was hoping she’d get to trade up.” Even back then, Lee had been the Golden Child.

For the first time, Nicole showed her true feelings, glaring at Max with anger and contempt. “Oh, get over it, will you Max? It was a long time ago. If I’d realized then that Lee and Caroline were sleeping together behind everyone’s backs, I wouldn’t have said anything back then. Anyway, isn’t it time you grew up? Marriage isn’t about love. It’s about _position_. Fall in love with your mistress if you want, I don’t care. God knows I did, when we were together.” Her eyes flickered back to Zoey. “But I can help you get what you want. You need me and you know it.”

When he laughed again, her smile grew cold and she went straight for the jugular, for the words that would hurt him the most. Just as he remembered. “Your parents _loved_ me, remember? I’m everything they wanted for you. Maybe if you were with me, you wouldn’t be such a _disappointment_. Who knows? Your dad might even pretend he loves you.” Even though it wasn’t the first time she flung his relationship with his dad in his face, he still flinched.

“Nicole. It’s time for you to leave.” Max had been so focused on their argument, he hadn’t heard Lee and Caroline step onto the porch, and it had been a long time since he had heard his brother so furious. Not since college, when Caroline and he used to bicker back and forth like an old married couple. It would take years for Max and everyone else to realize their anger was just a cover.

Nicole blanched. “Caroline? Lee? Listen, it’s not what you think -”

“After what you just said to a member of _my family_? It doesn’t matter what we think it is. It’s time for you to go,” Caroline said, her face pale with fury. She took Lee’s hand, the two presenting a unified front. “And don’t bother showing up tomorrow.”

Max felt a wave of nausea overwhelm him. It had been bad enough for Zoey to hear his argument with Nicole, to hear the truth about the relationship and what a pathetic fool he had once been. To know it had all come out in front of Caroline and Lee, on the night before their wedding? He didn’t know which was worse: that they’d heard what she’d said to him, or that on some level they – like he sometimes did – wondered if those words might be true.

As Nicole pleaded her case, Max turned and started to walk towards the street. He needed some time alone, to get his thoughts in order and find a way to deal with the humiliating prospect of facing everyone after this. But he’d only taken a few steps when he heard his brother call his name.

“Max!” He turned to find Lee rushing toward him, Zoey by his side. In the light spilling through the brightly lit windows, he saw regret and concern in her eyes, but he looked away before he could see pity there, too. Lee reached for him. “Max…what she said. It isn’t true. You know that, right?”

He shook his head. Weren’t they? On some level, he knew his dad loved him. But he also knew he always came in second. He always had, and in many ways, he sometimes felt like he still did. “I just…can we talk about this later?” His gaze drifted to Zoey, not wanting to hurt her, but unable to deal with the inevitable conversation just yet. “I just can’t deal with this right now.”

He was almost to the street when he heard the rapid fall of footsteps behind him and turned to see Lee jogging up to him. “Lee? I told you I -”

“You did. I know. And we don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want. We can just…walk together. You and me. But you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Though Max expected to feel irritated, he found himself surprisingly touched by the gesture. Still, it wasn’t something Lee had ever done before, so he couldn’t resist asking with the faintest shadow of a smile, “Did Caroline put you up to this?”

“Ah…no. Well, yes and no. Not entirely. Zoey was the one who suggested that you shouldn’t be alone. Caroline seconded the motion and told me she’d lock me out of the house if I left you like this. So really, you can try to argue with me if you want. But you should know it’s them against us, and I’m pretty sure they’ll win this one.”

“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” Max’s small smile morphed into a chuckle as the two men fell into step together and walked side by side down the street in silence. He thought about the fact that he’d been a little surprised Lee had come so readily to his defense, and he felt ashamed that the two of them had let the rift grow between them for so long. Or maybe it had been his doing, pushing Lee away because on some level, while he didn’t blame his brother for Nicole’s actions, he was a daily reminder of all the times that Max just didn’t measure up.

They would have to talk about that – about all of it, really – at some point. Probably after the wedding and honeymoon were over, at this point. But even though they didn’t talk say a word to each other over the course of their long walk, it felt good to have his brother by his side.

* * *

Alone in the dark, Zoey lay in bed and strained for any sound that meant Max had returned. It had been so hard not to follow him after the argument she had witnessed, in which she had seen the scars that Nicole’s words had laid bare. She had almost chased after her, until it occurred to her that he didn’t need her in that moment. He needed Lee. He needed to know that the things Nicole had said weren’t true.

Finally, she heard the front door open and close, and she held her breath, waiting to see if he would join her. After a minute or so, however, she heard another door open, and her heart sank at the realization he intended to sleep in the other bedroom tonight. Was he just needing time alone, or was he angry with her for provoking the argument with Nicole? Was he mad that she had even believed he could still love someone who hurt him that badly?

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling for one minute. Two. Then, muttering a curse, she tossed the blankets aside and got to her feet. She’d leave him alone if he asked her to, but she had to make sure he was okay first.

Her steps were silent on the plush carpet as she crept across the room and headed towards the other bedroom. Holding her breath, she pushed open the door a few inches, to find Max standing by the window, staring out at the night sky. “Zoey?” he asked, turning toward her. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No. I couldn’t sleep.” Still feeling uncertain, she stepped toward him and murmured in a low voice, “I…I thought you would sleep in my room tonight.”

He threw her a wry smile. “After what you just saw, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to.”

Zoey bit back her exclamation of dismay that the thought had even crossed his mind. Instead, she reached forward and took his hand, giving it a gentle tug. He had already kicked off his shoes and socks, so she grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head before helping him with his pants. She didn’t say a word as she helped him into bed and crawled in beside him. Then, laying her hand on his chest, she murmured, “Of course I do.”

He grabbed her hand, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss across her palm. “You’re pretty incredible, you know that?” Then, with a sigh, he said, “I’m sorry about tonight.”

He was still hurting and she hated it. Scooting closer to him, she said, “I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to dig all that up again.”

“It wasn’t you. Anyway, it was probably bound to come out eventually. Some of that stuff has been festering for a while. I just didn’t mean for you to see it.”

“If it’s bothering you, then I’m glad I did.” Leaning over him, she brushed a kiss against his lips, soft and tentative. Then she pulled away, silently watching him, waiting for his cue to tell her whether he wanted her to stay or leave.

For one heartbreaking moment, she thought that he would turn her away, but he reached for her instead, pulling her down on top of him. Their first kiss was slow, exploratory, a kiss of comfort and solace rather than passion.

Zoey threw her leg over his hips, straddling him as she watched his face in the dim moonlight. He was so precious to her; how had it taken her so long to see? Her hands swept over his body, soothing him with gentle strokes as she felt the tension from the evening’s argument slowly ebb away.

Then she moved, rocking her hips against him, feeling him grow hard against her, his body tensing once more. He reached for her, but she linked her hands in his, shaking her head. She already knew how good Max was with his hands, how easily he could play her body like an instrument. This time she wanted to be in control. She wanted him to have no doubt how much she wanted him.

She bent and pressed hot kisses against his chest, grinning when his chest hair tickled her cheek. With their fingers still linked, she pressed their hands against the mattress, pinning him in place as she flicked his nipple with her tongue.

Max gasped when she brushed her breasts against his bare chest. Gently, slightly teasing. His hips bucked up against her and she lifted off him until he stilled, letting her resume control once more.

Zoey kissed a path down his chest to his stomach, remembering his trick with the strawberries as she swirled her tongue around his navel. Reaching down, she cupped him in her hand, massaging him gently until his breath hissed through his teeth and his muscles were rigid beneath her mouth.

“Zoey…please,” he moaned as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, stroking him. Her thumb brushed against the soft head of his penis, already moist with pre-cum, and she reveled in the knowledge that his body ached for her as acutely as hers ached for him.

“I told you, Max. I want you,” she murmured, brushing her hair behind her ears so she could look up at him as she swept her tongue along the shaft of his penis. She pressed soft kisses along the same path before swirling her tongue along the head, savoring the taste of him. Wrapping her lips around him, she increased suction slightly, teasing him with her tongue as she sucked him deep into her throat.

Remembering his actions on top of the piano, Zoey hummed, the sensation lifting Max’s hips off the mattress in an involuntary bucking motion with an exclamation of surprise. Massaging his balls in one hand, she stared up at him as she sucked his cock, shivering at the soft sounds of pleasure that poured from his lips every time she moved up and down his shaft.

“Zoey…I can’t –” he panted, but she grabbed the hand that reached for her, unwilling to let him pull her away. Tonight wasn’t about her pleasure; it was about his. It was about wiping away the ghosts of his past and reminding him how much she ached for him. Lying there alone in the dark, she’d thought about how she wanted to bring him pleasure, and how much she wanted to watch him cum.

She felt his muscles clench, saw his lips curl back over his teeth, and she swallowed quickly when he shot his load into her mouth. She started to pull back, but Max moved unexpectedly, reaching down to grab her around the waist and lift her on top of him.

“My turn,” he said with a grin.

Zoey was shocked. “Again? But you just…”

He laughed. “Ah…no. That might _actually_ kill me at this point. That’s not what I had in mind. Come on.” Laying back, he gestured for her to crawl up his body. Then he grabbed her hips and moved her into position, straddling his face.

Zoey let out a low moan when his tongue delved inside her, his hands clutching her thighs to hold her in place. He worshipped her with his mouth, his tongue expertly sweeping along her soft folds, thrusting inside her. She screamed, grabbing at the wall, the headboard, his hair as he teased her, sucking her clit gently between his teeth to flick his tongue against the sensitive nub. The pleasure was so intense that Zoey felt the muscles in her thighs tense to lift her off him, some part of her instinctively seeking a reprieve from the onslaught of sensation, but he didn’t let her go.

Pressing his tongue against her clit, he wrapped his lips around the tiny nub. And then he started to hum. With her hands wrapped in his hair, she threw her head back and let out a shoult of pleasure and of victory as he body began to tremble. Her trembles became a long shudder that ripped through her body as she came into his mouth, calling out his name.


	8. Chapter 8

_“Max, what are you doing?” Zoey asked with a surprised giggle when he brushed her hair aside and started kissing the back of her neck._

_“I thought I was being pretty obvious,” he joked, nibbling her earlobe. Reaching around her, he hit the Stop Elevator button on the nearby panel, causing the carriage to stop between floors. She grinned and started to turn in his arms, wanting to kiss him, but he framed her waist in his hands._

_The blurred reflection of the elevator door completely obscured his features, but she saw him shake his head. “I have a better idea.” Grabbing her hands, he leaned her forward, placing them against the smooth metal panels. “Don’t move.”_

_Zoey felt her pulse quicken with arousal as he swept his hands under the skirt of her dress. Hooking his thumbs under the elastic of her underwear, she watched his featureless reflection slide them down her legs. Bracing herself against the elevator door, Zoey stepped out of them and watched as he slipped them into her pocket._

_“You know, it probably won’t take them very long to override the controls,” she said flirtatiously, spreading her legs to allow him easier access. “We don’t have a lot of time.”_

_“No,” he agreed, rising to his feet and wrapping his arms around her. “We don’t.” As he caressed her breasts with one hand, he slid the other between her legs, stroking her outer folds until she moaned with frustration and with need._

_“Max, please,” she begged._

_She shuddered at the feel of his lips and tongue when he sucked gently at the curve of her neck. “I love you, Zoey,” he whispered against her skin. She opened her mouth, wanting to respond, but she was unable to utter a single word. He licked the shell of her ear, sliding his fingers inside of her. “Tell me what you want.” His words came out more as a question than an order, his voice a soft plea._

_“I-I-“ she stammered, pressing herself against his hand. Still trying desperately to say the words he needed to hear but finding herself unable to speak._

_He sighed, slipping his hand out from under her skirt to grab her hips. His touch firm but gentle, he repositioned her. She was still trying to speak, but she couldn’t say a word. And even as her brain yelled at her to straighten up, turn around, hold tight to the man she loved, her body betrayed her, moving of its own volition. She couldn’t lift her hands off the elevator panels, and she spread herself wider. Every time she tried to say his name, to tell him she loved him, it came out as a moan of desire._

_“What do you want, Zoey? Tell me what you want.” He thrust himself inside her, reaching around her to finger her clit as he took her from behind. In the bright shine of the metal elevator doors, Zoey realized that she could make out her own reflection perfectly, but Max’s image remained blurry and indistinct. The steady rhythm of his thrusts didn’t so much as slow as he trailed his hands over her body, every touch a reminder that he’d explored every inch of her as he lingered in those areas guaranteed to bring her pleasure._

_Pressing his forehead against her back, he whispered, “I love you.” The longing in his voice breaking her heart, but she still couldn’t speak. “Tell me what you want from me?” She fought against her own body, trying to curl her hands into fists against the cold metal doors, trying to straighten, trying to speak. Unable to do anything other than rock back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, as she moaned his name._

_A light on the elevator panel suddenly lit up, and it was like whatever spell had held her in place was lifted as Max released her and stepped back. “It looks like we’re out of time.”_

_“No!” She yelled, spinning around to face him. “I love you! I love you!” But Max wasn’t there. She was standing in the elevator alone._

Zoey gasped as she jolted away, reaching instinctively for the man sleeping by her side. Pressing her eyes shut, she curled her body into his, seeking whatever comfort he could unconsciously provide. She wasn’t ready to explain her dream – or the fear it had left behind – to him yet, so she tried not to wake him as she hid her cheek in the curve of his shoulder.

“I love you, Max,” she whispered into the dark, her words almost completely drowned out by his slow, steady breaths. “I love you.”

* * *

Max awoke early the next morning, when the sun was just barely breaking over the horizon, casting a warm pink glow into the room. Though one glance at the clock told him they didn’t have long before they would have to get moving, to help Lee and Caroline prepare for the wedding, he couldn’t resist the urge to linger. Zoey was so beautiful in the soft light of dawn; he hated to wake her. Well…except he loved that sleepy little smile she would give him when she opened her eyes for the first time each morning, invariably curling up tighter against him in a silent plea to postpone the day.

With that thought in mind, he brushed a soft kiss against her shoulder, trying to gently wake her. “Zoey? Love, it’s time to wake up,” he murmured softly in her ear. She mumbled a sleepy protest, curling her head against his chest, and he stifled a chuckle. “I know, but we have to get moving.”

“We could pretend to get moving and hide out here the rest of the day,” she grumbled, her breath warm against his bare skin.

This time, he did laugh. “I’m the best man, Zo. I think they’d notice.”

With a resigned sigh, she pulled away, giving him a grumpy look. “Just so you know, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to get up this early.”

“I’ll make sure to file an official complaint,” he replied with a grin, but even though he knew they had to get moving, he wasn’t ready to get out of bed yet, either.

As he watched, Zoey’s face grew serious, and she lifted a hand to caress his cheek. “Max…I didn’t really get a chance to ask you last night, but…I want you to know if there’s ever anything you want to talk about…I’m here for you.”

He turned his head to press a kiss against her palm. “I know. I just don’t know what there really is to say. What happened with Nicole was…well, you heard what it was. I know I should have told you about her, but it’s not something I really like to talk about.”

Pillowing her head on one arm, she asked in a soft voice, “Did you love her a lot?” He watched as her face twisted into a wince. “That was a dumb question. You were going to marry her.”

One of the things he loved most about Zoey was the adorable faces she made without even realizing it, and he was momentarily tempted to see if he could kiss away any thought of their current conversation. But he’d put off talking to her about Nicole for long enough. Maybe he didn’t _owe_ her the truth, exactly, since they weren’t in a real relationship. But he wanted her to know the truth anyway, because she was his friend.

“I thought I did,” he admitted softly. “Sometimes I wonder, though, if I wasn’t using her as much as she was using me.” At Zoey’s soft sound of protest, he rubbed her hip reassuringly and explained, “Not consciously, but…she wasn’t wrong, you know. That’s what makes her so good at twisting the knife; there’s always just enough truth to her taunts to go straight for the jugular. The thing is, my dad loved her – at least, he loved the idea of the two of us together. She’s probably the only girl I’ve ever dated that he approved of. I’m not saying that’s why I was with her in the first place, but I…I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t part of me that wanted to hold on to that feeling that he was actually proud of me for once. I wonder sometimes if that’s the reason I turned a blind eye to everything wrong in our relationship.” With a sardonic smile, he added, “Until I caught her in bed with one of my best friends. That was pretty hard to ignore.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry she hurt you like that. And…and I’m sorry I…misunderstood your relationship and suggested you should give her another chance.”

He tried to cover his wince. It wasn’t the fact that Zoey had thought that Max would ever want to get back together with Nicole that bothered him. It was the fact that the idea of him dating someone else didn’t seem to bother her. But he could hardly tell her that, and he wasn’t about to ruin their last few precious hours together like this by mentioning it now. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I understand. I don’t know what she said to you for certain, but I can imagine at least. Like I said, there’s always just enough truth to what she says to make it easy to believe.”

Zoey sighed heavily. “Listen…Max. About-about what Nicole said. There’s something…there’s something I really need to tell you…”

But before she could continue, there was a knock on the front door and, seconds later, Caroline’s voice echoed through the guest house. “Zoey? Sorry to barge in like this, but it’s an emer- oh!” Her excited rambling was cut off by a squeak of dismay as she backed hurriedly out of the bedroom. Once she was safely out of sight, she yelled, “For the record, I didn’t see anything, but I also want to point out that _I knew it!_ ”

Max threw Zoey a wry look, his heart melting when he saw her cheeks go pink. “Well, I guess that’s our cue to get up.”

* * *

Zoey was embarrassed when Caroline came bounding into the room to find her in bed with Max, but she had no doubt the other woman wasn’t as surprised as she let on. Still, Max was looking a little too smug for her peace of mind (particularly since she could hardly do anything about it, with Caroline waiting in the next room), so she threw him a stern look. “Not helping,” she grumbled, jumping out of bed to throw on some clothes. She had worn one of Max’s shirts to bed the night before, though it had been unceremoniously stripped off and tossed aside at some point, so it took just a moment for her to retrieve it and pull it back on.

Behind her, she heard Max climb out of bed and glanced over her shoulder to see if he was decent. To her surprise, instead of searching for his own clothes, he was watching her, and she’d seen the expression on his face often enough over the last few nights to have no doubt what was on his mind. “Max, don’t even think about it!” she hissed, though she didn’t protest when he grabbed a handful of her shirt and pulled her toward him.

“God, that’s sexy,” he growled. “You should wear my shirts more often.”

She grinned even as she swatted his hands away. “Not now! Caroline is just in the other room!”

“She can wait,” he grumbled, but he let her go when she laughed and raced out of the bedroom, nearly careening into Caroline, waiting on the other side of the door.

“Sleep well?” Caroline asked with feigned innocence.

Blushing, well aware that she was wearing one of Max’s shirts and nothing else, and her companion knew it, Zoey pointed out, “Ah…you said something about an emergency?

Though Caroline’s expression clearly indicated she wasn’t going to let Zoey off the hook forever, she at least dropped the subject for now. “Right. I did. The thing is…as you know, I kind of kicked Nicole out of my wedding last night, but I just realized this morning that it leaves me without a maid of honor.”

“I…wait, what?” Zoey spluttered as the implication of this remark sunk in. “Oh, Caroline, I-I don’t know. Can’t you just promote one of your friends? I mean, we only just met, and -”

The other woman threw her a pleading look that, Zoey was sure, had melted many a man’s – and woman’s heart. “Please, Zoey? I know it’s a lot, but you don’t understand. Having an uneven number of bridesmaids and groomsmen would be…it’s just not done. It will kill my mother.”

Zoey threw her a skeptical look. That seemed to be laying it on really thick. “Really?” she asked in a dubious voice.

Caroline’s nod was firm and emphatic. “Really. Trust me. She will _never_ get over the lopsided photographs. Ever. At a cousin’s wedding, the florist brought bouquets that were just slightly the wrong shade of yellow, and my mother has never forgotten it. It’s been ten years. _Ten years_ , Zoey!”

“Okay, but still…even if I could agree to being a bridesmaid, being your maid of honor would be… your friends would get their feelings hurt, and -”

Waving away this concern, Caroline said, “Oh, no, they’ll be fine. I already talked to them about it. The thing is, it really makes the most sense to be you, since Max is the best man.” Seeing the expression on Zoey’s face, she rushed to explain in an undertone, “And he can’t step down from being best man because, with everything that happened yesterday…well, Lee and I are afraid it would send the wrong message, you know? That maybe the two of them had a falling out.”

“You…you talked to Lee about it? But I thought the bride and groom weren’t supposed to see each other on the day of their wedding.”

Once again, Caroline waved this argument away. “Oh, we did it over text. Please tell me you’ll do it. Please? It would mean so much to me, really.”

Zoey tried one last time, protesting, “But…Caroline, this is ridiculous! I don’t even have a dress!”

As though she sensed blood in the water, the bride linked their arms together and started steering her towards the door before apparently remembering her state of undress and changing direction to steer her towards the bathroom instead. “Oh, don’t worry about that. Not to brag or anything, but when you have as much money as my family does, you’d be amazed at what you can get done in record time. You jump in the shower, and by the time you’re out, the seamstress will be here to get you fitted for a dress in record time. Now scoot! We have to get moving if we’re going to get ready before it’s time to head out.”

“Ah, okay,” Zoey agreed, reluctantly turning to the shower. If only Caroline had waited a few more minutes before barging in. She’d been about to tell Max how she felt about him, and she didn’t know how she’d get a chance to do so now.

As Caroline had promised, an army of seamstresses got a dress ready for Zoey in record time. She could only count herself lucky that it wasn’t red, because most shades of that color clashed with her hair. She was so wrapped up in a whirlwind of activity, she felt like she barely had time to breathe – let alone tell Max she loved him – until they were standing on the boat that had been chartered to take everyone to the island, where they would finish getting ready.

“The ride won’t be long,” Max murmured in his ear, stepping up behind her where she stood at the railing, gazing out over the water.

“I don’t mind,” she replied softly, leaning back against him before remembering that they were supposed to be _just friends_. Which reminded her. She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was within earshot. Then she turned in his arms. “Max? There’s something I need to tell you.”

Her breath caught when she saw the look in his eyes, and she put her hand on his chest. _Breathe, Zoey_ , she told herself. _Just tell him how you feel_.

But before she could find the words to do so, she started hearing the faint sound of violins and her heart dropped when she realized what was about to happen. She was about to hear his heart song – something that hadn’t happened in a long time.

_“I know too well that I’m just wasting precious time in thinking such a thing could be, that you could ever care for me. I’m sure you hate to hear that I adore you, dear. But grant me just the same, I’m not entirely to blame…”_

“Max, no,” she moaned as he grabbed her by the hand and twirled her around. Wrapping his hand behind her waist, he started to sway back and forth with her in his arms.

_“For you’d be so easy to love. So easy to idolize, all others above. So sweet to waken with. So nice to sit down to eggs and bacon with. We’d be so grand at the game, so carefree together that it does seem a shame. That you can’t see your future with me ‘cause you’d be oh, so easy to love.”_

Normally, she wouldn’t mind hearing one his heart songs, but not now. Not when she’d been about to tell him how she felt about him. But it made her realize there was something else she had to tell him first. Telling him her feelings without telling him she’d heard his would feel like she was starting things off on a lie. And Max deserved better than that.

Spinning her so her back was pressed against his front, he sang softly into her ear, _“You’d be so easy to love. So easy to idolize all others above. So worth the yearning for. So swell to keep every home fire burning for.”_ He pressed a kiss against the curve of her shoulder. _“Oh, how we’d bloom, how we’d thrive in a cottage for two, or even three, four, or five.”_ He turned her in his arms so they were back where they started as he finished, _“So try to see your future with me cause you’d be oh, so easy to love.”_

“Max,” she breathed, pulling out of his arms. She had no idea how he was going to take what she was about to say. “Before anything else happens, there’s something I have to tell you.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Well, that sounds serious,” Max replied, though he didn’t seem immediately concerned, as he threw her a playful smile.

She shot another quick look around, nervous that they would be overheard. “It is.”

His smile fell, and he looked at her in concern. “Hey…is everything okay?”

She swallowed heavily. “Yeah. It’s just…it’s a little hard to expl-” As she spoke, the chatter around them grew louder and more excited, as a group of wedding guests approached the rail. Zoey scooted aside, trying to find more privacy. Max shifted forward, shielding her with his body. “Explain,” she finished, lowering her voice to the point she was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear her over the sound of the waves crashing around them. “And I – you probably won’t believe me.”

His look of concern grew, his voice low and comforting as he said, “Zoey, whatever it is, you know you can tell me.”

“The thing is…um…I have…I sort of have a superpower. That I never told you about.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he tried to put her at ease, teasing her gently, “Well, if you’re referring to the fact you somehow manage to be absolutely adorable and incredibly sexy at the same time, then I hate to be the one to break it to you, but…the cat’s out of the bag.”

“Max,” she moaned. “I’m being serious! I can hear –” She broke off again as the group next to them at the railing grew larger. Frustrated, she shook her head. “Look, I know things are going to be hectic when we get to shore, but can we talk for a few minutes? Just you and me?”

Resting his hand over hers on the railing, he gave it a quick squeeze. “Of course.”

In the end, however, it was easier said than done. As soon as they arrived, Max and Zoey were swept away by family and wedding well-wishers, with Zoey ushered back in front of the fleet of seamstresses, wedding planners, makeup artists, and hair stylists. After an eternity of being poked, prodded, tugged, and sprayed with any number of substances, Zoey finally made good her escape. She bolted through the door she’d seen Max duck through earlier, hoping it led to his changing room. Praying she’d caught him before the photographer, and he wasn’t outside standing for what would likely feel like an eternity of photos.

To her relief, she found her hunch had been correct. Max stood in front of the mirror, struggling to get the bowtie on his tuxedo straight. Zoey’s mouth went dry at the sight. She knew he looked good in a suit, of course, thanks to Mo’s intervention. But seeing him in a tuxedo was on another level entirely. Their eyes met in the reflection, and she found herself walking toward him, as though her feet had a mind of their own. Though she meant to jump right to the point, she heard herself ask instead, as she scooted in front of him, “Can I help?”

“Sure,” he murmured, his gaze warm as he looked down at her. With numb fingers, she reached up to adjust his tie as he rested his hands on her hips. “In case I don’t get a chance to tell you later, you look…incredible.”

Her answering smile was nervous, uncertain. “Thanks. I guess it’s amazing what you can get done quickly if you throw enough money at the problem.”

“Caroline may have been able to get the dress fitted in time, but she has nothing to do with the fact you take my breath away. You do that all on your own.”

Oh, how easily her hands slid from his tie to his shoulders, her arms wrapping around his neck as she pressed her body against him. She knew she should stop this, keep her distance until she’d told him the truth. The entire truth. But she couldn’t resist the temptation to melt against him, drawing his mouth to hers for a kiss.

“I’m going to mess up your lipstick,” he pointed out, smiling against her lips.

“I don’t care.”

Lost in his embrace, she didn’t notice when he grabbed her hand, until he twirled her around to face the mirror. Then, meeting her eyes in the reflected image, he pressed warm kisses under her ear until she let out a low moan. His hands up her body to caress her breasts through the silk of her gown.

“You know, if we keep this up, I’m going to wrinkle your dress,” he whispered against her skin.

“I don’t care,” she replied, grinning as she repeated herself.

He laughed, as she felt the back of his fingers brush tantalizingly against her back as he slowly unzipped her dress, letting it fall in a careless heap on the floor. She watched his reflection as he swallowed heavily. “You – you aren’t wearing any underwear,” he breathed.

Throwing his reflection a playful smile, she shook her head. “It was making a line in the dress.”

He tried to speak – it sounded like “My god,” – but choked on the words, and she could see the moment that his intent to tease her became something more. Something desperate and longing. His hands explored her body, trailing over her breasts in the perfectly fitted push-up bra the seamstresses had produced for her, across her stomach, along her thighs. Between her legs. Zoey leaned back against him, her body aching for him to make love to her there, in front of the mirror, as they both watched.

A warning whispered in her mind, and she closed her eyes, willing it away, but it remained insistent and demanding. “We shouldn’t do this,” she moaned. “We’ll make a mess.”

Now it was his turn to growl, “I don’t care.” His fingers delved inside of her, stroking her, and she gasped and pressed against his hand. As much as she knew it was wrong, she wanted to lose herself in this moment. In the touch of his hand and the way he made her feel. But he brought her back to reality when he let out a pained chuckle and murmured against her skin, “I think I figured out your superpower. You’re irresistible. I don’t know how I’ll manage to keep my hands off of you when we get home.”

His words were like a splash of cold water across her face, bringing her back to herself with a start. She wanted to believe he really wouldn’t care, but he might. She knew he might. When he knew the truth. At the reminder, she let out a small cry of dismay, pulling abruptly out of his arms. “No!”

Taken by surprise, Max fumbled to catch her when she tripped over the fabric pooled around her feet and watched in confusion as she bent to grab her dress, yanking it on. “Zoey, what – what’s wrong?”

Zoey gave her head a desperate shake, hating herself for having let it get so far. She’d come here to tell him the truth, and she’d almost made love to him again, knowing she was still perpetuating a lie. Hers was a lie of omission, but she suspected it would hurt him just the same, and yet she’d almost given in to the temptation to stay silent.

Her nakedness made her feel vulnerable and ashamed, and her breath came out in a tiny sob as she fumbled with the zipper. “Zip…zip me up. Please. I can’t -”

Even as he rushed to do so, he said, his voice heavy with worry, “I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head, stepping away from the mirror. “N-no, it wasn’t…I can’t do this anymore. Not without…I have to tell you…You deserve the truth.” Though she wished she could run and hide, she forced herself to face him. “It’s…my superpower…I hear people singing. In my head. And it’s…it’s how they really feel.”

“Um…okay. Wow. That’s…not where I thought this conversation was going to go at all,” he admitted, sounding flummoxed. “But whatever it is that’s going on, you have to know that I’m your friend. I’m here for you, and -”

When she saw the lack of comprehension on his face, she sucked in a deep and, like tearing off a Band-aid all at once, forced herself to admit, “You don’t understand. I’m trying to tell you that I know…I know how you feel. About me. I know you love me. I heard…you sang love songs to me.”

Confusion morphed to panic as he stammered, trying to explain, “I…what? I mean…m-maybe this weekend things have gotten a little…confusing, but I…I…I know you don’t – I mean, that this isn’t…” But then, looking into her face, he clenched his jaw, biting off the rest of his words.

She watched as his shoulders sagged, and he shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “No. Even if you weren’t telling me you already know, I couldn’t keep lying about how I feel.” Throwing her a resigned look, he shrugged. “But, look, you don’t have to worry that you’ve given me the wrong impression or anything. I know this isn’t…well…that this weekend doesn’t mean anything. I know you don’t feel the same way about me.”

He forced a smile, but it looked more like a grimace as he forced himself to joke, “It’s hard to believe you have a superpower, but I guess it doesn’t matter. No offense, but I wish it’d had slightly better timing.”

Realizing his misunderstanding, she whispered, “I didn’t just get my superpower this weekend. I’ve had it for a while.”

Though he nodded, his gaze was vague and unfocused, and she could practically see his mind race to try to put the pieces together. “Well, then, I wish I’d had better timing then, I guess. When-when did you…I don’t even know how to…when did I…when did you…Was it last night? This morning?”

She could let this go, she knew. Let him believe she’d just discovered the truth. But doing so would only be to trade one lie for another, and he deserved better than that. She shook her head. “No.”

“Oh, god, it wasn’t…was it back in New York? Or on the pl-” But when he saw the stricken look on his face, his voice trailed off. His eyes focused on her as he asked, a sharpness to the question that hadn’t been there before, “Zoey? You said I sang love _songs_ to you. Plural. How long have you known?”

Here it was. The question she’d expected and dreaded just the same. “Since…since the day I got my promotion,” she whispered.

His jaw dropped, and he looked at her in astonishment. “Your pro-it’s been _months_ since you – you’re telling me you’ve known how I felt about you for _months_?” She nodded, bracing herself, because she knew the pieces were still falling into place, and when they did…

“Wait,” he said abruptly, giving his head a small shake. “That means that, after you found out…Autumn? You found out I was in love with you, and your response was to set me up with another woman?”

“I panicked!” she explained, desperately trying to make him understand. “You’re my best friend, and I didn’t know how to deal with what I had heard! I panicked, and I thought -”

She reached for him, but he stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest as his anger grew. “I’m your best friend? Really? Because it doesn’t feel like that right now. Right now, I can’t help but wonder…what is this, Zoey? What is this weekend? One wild fling in New York? That’s what you wanted, right? This was your idea?” When she shook her head miserably, he continued, “So you knew that I loved you and you thought…what? You might as well take advantage of that while you could? What kind of friend does that?”

More than his rising anger, it was the hurt, the betrayal, in his voice that was breaking her heart, and she tried once more to reach out to him. But once again, he stepped out of her reach. “It wasn’t – it wasn’t like that! I know how it looks, but I didn’t plan this! I never meant to tell you I’d been having those dreams about you, and -”

“Oh, that’s right. Your dreams,” he interjected, looking off to the side as though trying to recall something from memory. “You know, I just realized that you never did tell me more about those. Like when they started. Do I have your superpower to thank for those, as well?”

Zoey bit her lower lip and gave her head a quick jerk, confirming his suspicions were true. When he looked at her expectantly, she whispered, “The other night…after Simon’s party…you sang to me…”

“Simon’s…” he began, but his voice trailed off once more. As Max tried to process everything she was telling him, he just looked at her, stunned. “I can’t…I really don’t know what you expect from me, here. Why did you – why tell me now? Why are you even…all this time, you knew how I…you never said anything.”

She could feel him slipping away from her, shutting her out, and she raced forward, pressing her hands against his chest as she tried desperately to explain. “I’m sorry, Max. I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you the truth! I never meant for it to get this far. I was just…I was scared. I didn’t want to hurt you, and I was afraid that if I told you the truth, I’d lose you.”

He stared down at her hands, then looked up into her face. She expected the pain she saw behind his eyes. What she hadn’t expected was the defeat. The resignation. “So you used me instead.”

“No!” she blurted. “I didn’t – it wasn’t like that! I fell in love with you! I don’t know…maybe I loved you all along and I was just too scared to admit it. But this weekend…I’m not scared anymore. I love you, Max. You have to believe me!”

His gaze dropped from hers as he grabbed one of her hands, lifting it to his mouth to press a kiss against her cold skin. “I’m sorry, Zoey, but I don’t. I don’t believe you at all. This whole time, you knew I loved you, and you made it clear what you wanted. _Get it out of our systems_ , that’s how you put it, right?” Ashamed, she averted her eyes, but he didn’t relent. “I don’t know, maybe you thought we’d have sex and I’d fall out of love with you. Or maybe you just hoped I would. But either way, it’s clear to me that you don’t really want _me_. You want _that_.” He nodded towards the mirror, reminding her of the moment they had shared mere minutes before.

Outside the door, someone called his name, reminding them both of where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. With another shake of his head, he released her hand, stepping back. “Don’t worry about it, Zoey. I’ll be fine. In fact, I’m kind of used to it. At least you weren’t after my brother.”

She flinched at his words as he reached up and ripped off his bowtie with a curse. “I never have been any good at these damn things,” he muttered, dropping it on the ground before storming out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

Zoey was determined to make it back to her changing room before she started to cry. Clutching her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms, she tried to get herself under control. She couldn’t lose it now. Caroline was counting on her. Walking into the changing room, she found it empty, strewn by random articles of clothing, empty glasses, and tissues. Her foot skidded on a piece of paper that had fallen on the floor.

Her brain felt numb and fuzzy, operating on autopilot. Unable to process the enormity of what she’d lost and the pain she’d selfishly – if unintentionally – caused. Maybe she couldn’t get her life – or her heart – in order, but she could help straighten the room. Maybe that would help her keep things under control.

But when she picked up the piece of fancy cardstock, she saw that it was a wedding program. And there, under the Wedding Party, she saw their names. _Maid of Honor: Zoey Clarke. Best Man: Maxwell Richman._

Somehow it was that – something so small and insignificant and stupid, really – that broke through her hollow emptiness, bringing tears to her eyes that rapidly spilled over her cheeks. With a tiny sob, she sank into a chair and buried her head in her hands. Two minutes. She’d allow herself to cry for two minutes, but then she’d have to pull herself together if she didn’t want to disappoint Caroline by ruining her photos with puffy eyes and streaked makeup.

But when Caroline bounded into the room five minutes later (as much as anyone can be said to bound in that many layers of fabric), Zoey was still curled up on the chair, her whole body shaking with the force of her cries. “Okay, so we have a few – woah. What’s going on?” Without a moment’s hesitation, she dug into her white purse, pulling out some tissues. “Here,” she said in soft encouragement. “Whatever it is, surely it can’t be that bad. We can figure it out.”

Zoey took the tissues she offered and pressed them to her face with a hopeless shake of her head. “I’m – I’m sorry. I’ll get a hold of myself,” she promised blearily, fighting back her tears and trying to get her breathing under control. “Oh, god, I’m ruining my makeup. Your photos are going to look awful,” she moaned miserably.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m paying a lot of people a lot of money to take care of pesky problems like that, remember?” Caroline joked, trying to elicit a smile as she grabbed a nearby chair. Sinking into it, she took the opportunity to kick of her shoes with a sigh of relief. “Now come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s Max,” she moaned piteously. “He totally hates me.”

Caroline snorted. “Okay, well, _that’s_ not true. Why don’t you tell me what happened, and I’ll help you find a way to fix it.”

Zoey shook her head. “No, it’s…you don’t need to be worry about this. Really. It’s your wedding day! The last thing you need to worry about is me and Max.”

The bride leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting out the window as she tucked her lower lip between her teeth. Finally, she seemed to come to some sort of decision, because she scooted her chair closer and asked in an undertone, “Can I tell you the truth? But you have to keep it between us.” At Zoey’s confused nod, she admitted, “Okay, so the thing is…Lee and I? _Technically?_ We’re already married. This whole thing is really just for our parents and the papers, but I couldn’t give a damn about any of it.”

Zoey looked at her with wide eyes, stuttering, “What? B-but…how and…when? Wh-what? Why? I don’t understand!”

She shrugged. “Last weekend. We knew it would be the last time we’d have to ourselves before everyone flew in, so…” She waved her hand in the air dismissively. “we eloped. Technically. I mean, we were downtown. The paperwork was already done. We figured…why not?” Leaning in, she confessed in a conspiratorial tone, “And if you want to know the truth, it’s been kind of nice, keeping this secret from everyone.”

If Caroline had wanted to distract Zoey from her sorrow, it worked. She was so shocked that it had effectively stopped her tears. “But…you had this whole wedding planned! You were getting married in a few days anyway! Why not wait and -”

“You don’t get it, Zoey! That’s exactly the problem. There are probably a hundred people out there putting this whole thing together today, and that’s great. But it’s not us.” Apparently still seeing the confusion on her companion’s face, she sighed and admitted, “I know. That probably sounds awful. But you have to understand. We’re on _display_ so much of the time, you know? It’s nice to have this little thing that’s just been ours. All I ever really want is to be married to Lee. The rest of this is just…a lot of pomp and circumstance. Lee and I…we’re the couple who had an _amazing_ one night stand…or three…or, okay, maybe five, acted like we hated each other for a year after, and somehow fell in love somewhere along the way. We just kind of figured, you know…we haven’t done anything the traditional way so far. Why start now?”

“Wow. Caroline, that’s…but if a big wedding isn’t what you wanted, why didn’t you just cancel? Why plan a big wedding in the first place?”

Her question elicited a cheeky smile from the bride. “You still don’t know my mother very well, do you? And, really, Lee and I don’t really _mind_ going through the whole big show. It means so much to our families. But honestly? This whole weekend? It’s meant so much to Lee to have Max here. Even if he doesn’t necessarily know how to show it. But when they took that walk…it probably sounds a little dumb, but I think that’s the closest he’s felt to his brother in years.”

At the reminder of Max, Zoey’s eyes fell to her lap, but she found herself latching on to every word out of Caroline’s mouth, desperate to dwell in thoughts of him and dreading the pain that would bring in equal measure.

Caroline continued, “The two of them were so close when they were little, I guess, but then everything seemed to fall apart, and Lee has never really known how to reach out to Max and get that relationship back again. But he was so happy last night; he said he really felt like they’d connected for the first time in…well…a long time. He means the world to me, and his brother means the world to him, so I’d have done anything to give him this chance. Even if it means wearing a dress the size of a barge that weighs at least twenty pounds and feels like it has a personal vendetta against me for breathing. So in a way, all of this…it’s my wedding present to him.”

A few seconds of silence fell between them, and then Caroline cringed and said, “Okay, I just realized that makes it sound like the two of you are my wedding present to him, and that sounds way creepier than I intended.” As she’d no doubt hoped, that prompted a small bark of laughter from Zoey, which seemed to be the opening she was looking for. Leaning in, she took Zoey’s hand and said, “Okay, so now you know my big secret. One or two of them, at any rate. Tell me what’s wrong.”

In the short time they’d known each other, Zoey had come to genuinely care for Caroline – or at least her opinion – so she couldn’t look the other woman in the eyes as she admitted, “Max…he thinks I used him.”

“What?” The answering reply came out as a screech of outrage as she jumped to her feet, bracing her fists on her waist as she gave every impression of gearing up for battle. “What the hell would give him that imp-”

“Because I did,” Zoey whispered, causing her companion to make a small, choking nose of surprise and dismay.

“Okay,” Caroline said slowly after she’d spluttered for a few moments. “Now I’m all full of righteous indignation with no place to put it. So you know what this calls for, don’t you?”

“Throwing me out of the wedding party?” Zoey asked miserably.

She shook her head. “No. Mimosas. I’m going to pour, you’re going to drink, and then you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.”

“But…your wedding! Everyone’s waiting!”

Caroline shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. We were just going to do pictures, and they can start with the groom’s side. And if you’re worried about the guests, don’t. They haven’t all arrived yet, but when they do, they have an open bar. Trust me. They’ll be fine. Waiting a little bit longer won’t kill them. Anyway, I have it on good authority they can’t start this whole shindig without me, and I’m not going _anywhere_ until we figure this out.”

She stood, turning to the shelf where they’d put the champagne and orange juice. However, as she poured the two of them drinks, she said, not unkindly, “And we really are going to have to bring someone in here to fix your makeup. And your hair. And what did you do to your dress to get it that wrinkled? No offense, but girl…you’re a mess.”

Zoey couldn’t help it. She wanted to feel sorry for herself, but Caroline’s good-natured, affectionate teasing made her laugh.

* * *

“Hey, Max, we’re about ready to – are you okay? What happened?” In a heartbeat, Lee’s voice turned from lighthearted and joyful to serious and concerned.

“I’m fine,” Max mumbled, lifting his head out of his hands.

“Yeah, I can see that.” His brother took a seat next to him at the bar, where Max had been staring longingly at a bottle of whiskey. At the moment, he’d stuck to water, but only because he still had a part to play in the wedding, and he’d be damned if he ruined this day for Lee. Even for the sake of his own broken heart.

Trying to pull himself together, he asked, “Sorry, what are we ready to do?”

Lee shook his head. “Ahhh…well, photos in a minute or so. But it’s fine; they can start with the bride. What happened? You look like hell. Where’s your tie?”

He lifted a hand to his neck, feeling the bare button there where a tie had been before. He only vaguely remembered taking it off. “It was too tight. I couldn’t breathe,” he mumbled. “I don’t know. I think I dropped it…somewhere.”

“Okay, well…that’s fine. We’ll find you a new one. But do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

He shook his head. “No, Lee, come on. It’s your wedding day. Everybody’s here to see you…Caroline should be around here somewhere. The last thing you should be worrying about right now is me.”

Lee tilted his head to the side and gave Max a considering look. “Well, you know…like I said, the photographer should be looking for Caroline and the rest of her party now. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty sure that woman could take on an entire battalion of Marines. I’m certainly not about to get in her way. And, anyway…you’re my little brother. I may not be the best at showing it, but I always worry about you.” He smiled and added lightly, “It’s kind of my job.”

Max threw him a ghost of a smile. “Really? I thought your job was giving me a hard time.”

“Oh, no. That I do for fun. It’s more of a hobby, really.” He hesitated and then asked gently, “Is this, um, are you upset about what happened with Nicole?”

He shook his head. “No. Well, not exactly.” He took another sip of his water, wishing it were something stronger. “I was actually just sitting here thinking that maybe I should have taken her up on her offer.”

Lee snorted. “You must be joking! You said yourself she was just using you!”

“Yeah, but that seems to be going around,” he said morosely, pushing away from the bar before he could give in to temptation. “At least with Nicole, I knew where she stood.”

His brother winced. “Ouch. Something happen with you and Zoey? I thought you guys were crazy about each other!” He paused and then added, with a completely deadpan expression, “In a totally platonic, I-completely-believe-you-when-you-say-the-two-of-you-are-just-friends kind of way.”

“That obvious, huh?” Max asked with a heavy sigh. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, since that’s basically the problem. You’re right. I’m in love with her. I have been for a while. And I guess I’m an idiot, because I thought she didn’t know. It turns out she did, she just…” He didn’t even know how to finish the sentence, so he let his voice trail off helplessly. Didn’t care? Didn’t want to care? Unable to find the words without explaining exactly what they’d been doing over the last few days – and, as hurt as he was, he wasn’t about to throw Zoey under _that_ bus – he simply shrugged.

Lee shook his head. “I love you, little brother, but you can be such an idiot.” When Max threw him an affronted look, he lifted his eyebrows and asked, “Or did you miss the part where I said it’s obvious the two of you are crazy about each other? It’s not exactly a one-way street, here.”

“You’ve got it wrong. She doesn’t love me. It’s just -” Max began, but before he could continue his argument, the photographer came storming into the room, the wedding planner at her heels.

“All right. You two. You’re coming with me. We’ll never get this wedding underway if we don’t get things moving. So unless you don’t want any photos of your blessed event, grab your groomsmen now. We’re headed outside.”

Lee looked at her in surprise. “Oh, I – uh – I thought you could start with Caroline. She should be -”

“The _bride_ has locked herself into the changing room and ordered me to start with you. And just your luck, I left my lockpick kit out in the car. Come on.” She paused and threw Max a stern look. “And where is his tie?”

“Oh, the – uh – the dog ate it?” Max offered tentatively. The photographer just rolled her eyes at the two of them and, huffing in indignation, stormed into the other room to gather groomsmen like recalcitrant children.

Lee patted his brother on the shoulder as he rose to his feet. “You go track down your tie. I’ll meet you and the rest of the guys outside.” When Max started to argue, he explained, “The complete lack of food and drink I’ve had today is going right through me. I’m going to run to the restroom before we head out.”

“Wait, what?” Max protested, but his brother had already raced out of the room.

* * *

“I know I should have told him sooner, but I guess I was just…scared. Being in love with Max is…it’s…”

“Amazing? Wonderful? The most terrifying feeling in the world?” Caroline offered. At Zoey’s answering nod, she replied, “Yeah, I know the feeling. But you do love him, right?”

She nodded again, her misery intensifying. “I do, not that he’ll ever believe me. And I can’t even blame him. Of course he thinks I’ve just been using him for sex. How could I expect him to believe that I love him when I didn’t even want to admit it for the longest time?” She had shared the broad strokes with Caroline about her situation with Max, but she’d left out the tiny, irrelevant details. Such as her superpower.

Caroline snorted, topping off their mimosas one more time with more champagne. At this point, the orange juice mixer was more of a distant memory. “Oh. Well. Let me tell you something about the Richman brothers. They’re kind. Charming. Incredibly handsome. And sometimes they can be such oblivious dumbasses, it could make you want to scream. When it came time to tell Lee how I really felt about him? Let me tell you what he -”

Her story was cut off by a loud rap on the door, causing Caroline to straighten in her chair, yelling, “I told you to start with the groom! If you come back one more time, I’m pouring this entire pitcher of orange juice down the front of my dress, and you’ll have to call an ambulance for my mother after you tell her because it _will_ give that woman a heart attack!”

There was a long pause following her threat, and then Lee’s voice, tentative and more than a little nervous, carried through the door. “Um…honey? It’s me. You know, the love of your life? Please don’t give your mother a heart attack. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

“Oops. Be right back,” she mumbled, jumping to her feet and racing to the door. Throwing it open, she reached out for Lee, but he grabbed her and dragged her into the hall instead. Though Zoey was initially tempted to listen in, in case Lee had come to tell Caroline how Max was doing, she reminded herself it was their wedding day and there was every chance she didn’t want to hear what was going on in the hall. Her suspicions were confirmed when Caroline returned to the room a few minutes later and Zoey noticed her lipstick was smudged.

“Is everything okay? I thought the two of you weren’t supposed to kiss until _after_ the ceremony,” Zoey teased.

Caroline grinned. “Oh, it’s fine. He just wanted to ask me about…um…table settings. Oh, and he wanted to let me know that the boat should be arriving soon with your things.” Zoey nodded. She’d been aware that the reception was expected to run late, so it had been decided that the bridal party and close family would be staying on the island overnight. She’d prepared a small overnight bag, just in case, which was to be picked up with the rest of their belongings on a separate trip.

“All right. I’ve thought it over and I’ve come to a decision,” the bride blurted, grabbing Zoey’s hand and pulling her to her feet. “First, we’re going to get your dress and hair and makeup fixed – ooh, and mine too,” she added, catching sight of herself in the mirror. “Okay, so maybe we got a little _distracted_ out in the hall. Anyway, when that’s done, we’re going to go outside and we’re going to do pictures. And you, Zoey Clarke, are going to look _fabulous_ and confident. As my mom always says, the first rule of moving around in this world is never letting them see you cry, and as much as I joke about her, she’s absolutely right. So you’re going to go down there, and you’re going to pretend like everything is fine. And you are not – I repeat, _not_ – going to let a certain Max Richman see you cry.” She waited a beat and then conceded with a soft smile, “At least not until after pictures are done.”

“Oh, but…I don’t know. I’m not sure I can face him like this. I –”

“You can,” Caroline cut in. “You can and you will.” Giving Zoey’s hands a firm squeeze, she said in an undertone, “I know this isn’t going to be easy, but you’re going to do it, and it’s going to be fine. We can fix this, Zoey, but to do it, I’m going to need you to be very strong and very brave. Just for a little while.” She tucked a lock of hair behind Zoey’s ear. “You can do that for me, right?”

Though her breath was shaky, Zoey gave a firm nod. “Of course I can.” And she hoped she was telling the truth.

But her heart was hammering in her chest a few minutes later when she made her way downstairs, her hand trembling on the bannister when she recognized the back of Max’s head as she took the final step. The groomsmen were huddled around, making small talk, as the photographer ushered people into place for the series of formal shots she was determined to get.

“Bride’s parents! We need the bride’s parents outside now! Groom’s parents will be up next!” she bellowed over the crowd, and Zoey had to resist the urge to salute.

Though she yearned to walk up to Max, to put her arm around his waist and lean into his solid warmth for comfort, she couldn’t move. Even when she saw him smile at something his brother said and cast a look over his shoulder. She knew the moment his gaze landed on her, because his smile fell and his expression grew taut.

He started to turn away, but then Zoey wondered if he’d grown up with the same admonition that Caroline’s mother had passed down to her, because he forced a strained smile and reached out his hand to her. Holding her breath, she walked through the crowd to put her hand in his, letting him pull her gently to his side as they turned their attention back to the rest of the bridal party.

And then, leaning in as though he was filling her in on family politics in an undertone, Max began to sing. _“Just a shoulder to cry on. That’s all I’ve been to you. Just someone to rely on when your world is empty and blue.”_ He turned, wrapping his arms around her, his lips hovering just above her own as he continued, _“I’m just someone you can call dear whenever you choose. I’m just someone you run to. I’m just someone you use.”_

The groomsmen joined in the dance, spinning around them, and Zoey was momentarily scared this wasn’t just a heart song and he was actually singing out loud, for real. When Max spun to face her, resting his hands on her waist, to drag down her legs as he dropped to his knees before her, she almost yelped in alarm. But when she looked to the side of the room, Max’s parents were waiting there, looking like nothing was wrong. So apparently it was once again in her head.

The photographer reappeared, calling his parents outside, but Zoey barely noticed as Max wrapped his hands around her thighs and tugged, pulling her gently down into his lap. She knew she should pull away, try to break him out of his heart song, but she never could really resist Max. Instead, she gasped as she straddled him, and he pressed a warm kiss against the side of her neck, laying her back on the ground as he moved over her.

And still, he continued to sing, his voice low and rough with desire. As it always did, her body responded, as she sighed and arched against him. _“I’m just someone you can talk to. And that’s all I’ll ever be. Just a clown you can laugh with. Someone to treat you as you need.”_

She wouldn’t get through to him while he was wrapped up in a heart song, but she needed to try. “Max, please,” she murmured, cupping his cheek in her hand to draw him down to her. “I love you. I wish you could believe that.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he rolled over, pulling her on top of him, his hands sweeping down her back as he continued, “ _I’m just a fool you can love on any time you choose. I’m just someone you run to. I’m just someone you use.”_

Max’s parents returned, and then the photographer was standing above them, gesturing for Zoey and Max to follow. Zoey had to wonder what the photographer and other onlookers were currently seeing, because they seemed entirely unfazed to see the Maid of Honor and Best Man stretched out before them on the floor.

Zoey’s heart was heavy in her chest as Max sat up, lifting her to her feet as the music continued to play. But as they got outside and she turned to face him, she saw his tie was askew. He was still wrapped up in his heart song, so she sucked in a deep breath and reached for him. _I’m going to need you to be very strong and very brave. Just for a little while,_ Caroline had said. And she would find a way to be just that.

“Your…um…your tie,” she murmured, in case he could hear her through his heart song. The photographer was gesturing for the pose she wanted them to assume, but Zoey only had eyes for Max. As she finished with his tie, he grabbed her hand, twirling her around to face the camera. And then, like he had in front of a mirror not that long before, he rested his hands on her waist and leaned down until his mouth was pressed against her ear.

Zoey had to hope that the rest of the world wasn’t seeing what she saw during his heart songs, because his hands danced over her dress on the same path they’d trailed over her bare skin not long before. She had to bite back a moan, closing her eyes as she leaned back against him. He kissed a line from her ear to her shoulder, and she shuddered against him as his hand swept over her breasts and down her stomach to the hem of her skirt.

But she wanted to cry when he sang in her ear, _“I’m just someone you run to. I’m just someone you use. Don’t you know when you need me, my little heart just can’t refuse.”_ He wrapped his hand around her waist, spinning her around again, and then pulled her hard against him. She braced her hands on his shoulders and stared into his eyes as he finished, _“I’m just someone who loves you, baby. I can’t win, and I can’t lose. I’m just someone you run to. I’m just someone you use.”_

Zoey’s breath was caught somewhere in her throat, but she let it out with a long exhale as his song ended and she found herself still staring into Max’s eyes. After a long moment, the photographer cleared her throat. “If you’re quite done,” she said sternly.

“What?” Zoey asked, looking over her shoulder at the woman in question, unable to even process the words she was saying.

The photographer lifted her eyebrows expectantly. “His tie?” she prompted.

“Oh. Right,” she mumbled, her cheeks flaming as she gave it a quick adjustment.

Max held still for her, but the corners of his mouth lifted in a wry smile as she turned around in his arms, pressing back against him as directed. His arm went around her waist, and she gasped softly at the press of his hand against her stomach as he pulled her against him. “You know, my brother and Caroline are really bad at being subtle,” he murmured softly as the photographer directed them to tilt their heads at a specific angle.

“What do you mean?” she breathed back, closing her eyes for a moment, just for the chance to revel in the feel of his body against hers once more.

He chuckled. “Do you know many weddings where the Best Man and Maid of Honor have official photos together?” he asked in a dry tone. To be frank, Zoey hadn’t been to many weddings at all, never mind as a member of the bridal party. But if this was all a set-up by Max’s brother and his bride, she didn’t care. As long as she got to spend a few more minutes in his arms.

“Less talking, more smiling,” the photographer called out to them, snapping a few quick photos. “Okay, now face each other.”

Zoey wasn’t about to protest, turning in his arms and resting her hands against his chest as she gazed into his eyes. “Max…about earlier,” she breathed.

“You were hearing a heart song again, weren’t you?” At her confused look, he prompted, “When we came out here. You were a million miles away. You were hearing another heart song, weren’t you?” Swallowing heavily, she nodded once. His eyes were shadowed, his voice tight, as he asked, “Let me guess. I was singing again about how much I love you.”

She hated being this close to him when he felt so far away, so she ignored the photographer’s instructions and pushed her hands against his chest, pulling out of his arms. “No, actually. It was the opposite,” she replied with a calmness she didn’t feel, storming past him to go back inside.

* * *

Behind her, Max sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he slowly followed. He’d bungled that one. Badly. It was just so hard to be around her, wanting to pull her closer to him and push her away in equal measure. He was almost to the door when Caroline breezed outside, linking her arm in his and propelling him in the other direction. “Maxwell Theodore Benjamin Hershel Richman, we need to talk,” she declared as they walked together.

“Um…that’s…that’s not my name,” he pointed out, letting her drag him along.

“I don’t care. I’m mad, and I’m trying to make a point, here.”

Once they had stepped off the deck and Caroline seemed to consider they were far enough away from the photographer for privacy, she released him. “Oh. And what point is that?” he asked mildly, rocking back on his heels.

She blinked at him. “That I’m mad at you, of course. Now stop trying to distract me. This is serious. Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Zoey?”

He sighed. “You mean she hasn’t told you already?”

Caroline rested her hands on her hips and threw him a belligerent look. “Of course she did, but I want to hear it from you.”

“Look, I appreciate you’re trying to help, but I really don’t want to talk about this right -”

Of course, he should have known she wouldn’t let him get away with that. Her voice softening, she grabbed his hand in both of hers and gave it a tight squeeze. “Come on, Max. Zoey’s absolutely crazy about you. You have to know that. Hell, everyone can see it a mile away.”

Though he didn’t want to hurt her feelings – on her wedding day, no less – he pulled his hand firmly out of hers. “No, she isn’t. All she wanted is a wild weekend away. She didn’t want _me_.”

“Oh, please,” she huffed. “That’s not -”

Her insistence that there had ever been something more between himself and Zoey was too much for him to take. Particularly since he wanted so desperately to believe it was true. So although he didn’t want to ruin her day, his temper snapped. “That’s not what? True? Yes, it is, Caroline! You may not like it, and I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true! Zoey knew I was hopelessly in love with her, and first she set me up with another woman, and then she…” He sucked in a deep breath, giving his head a hard shake. “She made it absolutely clear that she wanted only one thing from me, and it wasn’t my _love_. She was just using me, and you’ll have to excuse me if I’m a little tired of being _used_.”

He started to storm away, but her voice stopped him. “I used Lee for his body.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, torn between confusion and indignation as he spun back around. That definitely wasn’t what he’d expected to hear her say.

Her face was calm, her voice level as she walked up to him. “I used Lee for his body. At least, that’s what he thought, I’m sure. We were supposed to be a one-night stand, but it actually was more like a five-night stand and ended up becoming something more. But I’m sure if you asked him, Lee would say that at first, I was using him for his body.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the same thing,” he pointed out through gritted teeth. “Zoey and I were _friends_. At least, I thought we were, but she –”

“That’s right. You’re friends. You’ve been friends for, what, five years now? And yet she risked everything – your friendship, everything you’ve meant to each other – just for _sex_?” As though to diffuse the situation, she reached up to adjust his tie once more, murmuring softly, “Now come on, Maxwell Archibald Grover Richman. Does that sound likely to you?”

“I –” he began, trying to recover his argument, but he didn’t really know where he was going with that one little word, so he let his voice trail off. Swallowing heavily, he finally managed, “You forgot one. You gave me three middle names a minute ago.”

Caroline shook her head. “Nah. I’m just a little less mad at you now.” Throwing him a self-satisfied smile, she stepped back. “There. That’s more like it. Your tie is straight now. Stop messing with it, would you?” Scooting past him – as much as a woman in skirts wide enough to host a Russian circus could do – she shot over her shoulder, “Oh, and your dad’s looking for you. If you’ve got a moment.”

“Great. Just great,” he mumbled, following her back inside.


	11. Chapter 11

Max forced a smile, though he was inwardly bracing himself for battle, as he walked through the doors and looked around for his father. The tension he felt at the prospect of dealing with his own dad only reminded him of how different his relationship was with Mitch. Zoey meant so much to him, he was closer to his family than he had been to his own for the last few years. She was such a vital part of him, he couldn’t imagine his life without her. He carried her like a thumb print on his heart. He didn’t know how to cut her out of his mind, his heart, his soul, even if he wanted to.

But that left him at a loss as to what to do. He loved Zoey. Even now, as hurt as he was, he found himself scanning the crowd for her familiar shock of red hair. Longing to be with her. But as much as he wanted to push past the hurt, put things back the way they had been, but it still twisted like a knife in his heart. Even as Caroline’s words lingered in the back of his mind.

“Maxwell,” his father called out to him as he approached. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Yeah, it felt like my lucky day,” he muttered to himself.

“Walk with me,” Andrew said as he moved away from the crowd. Falling into step beside his father, Max waited for the inevitable criticism to start. About his tie being crooked. About the way he’d combed his hair. About the fact he wasn’t smiling enough. He didn’t know what his dad would criticize, but he had no doubt he’d find _something_. He always did.

It seemed like he didn’t have to wait long, as his father finally led them to a room that was miraculously mostly empty and then came to a halt. “Listen…I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I heard what happened last night. Between you and Nicole.” Max stiffened, waiting for the censure he knew would follow. To his surprise, his dad admitted, “I also heard what she said to you. And I need to know…Is that what you think? That I’m not proud of you?”

“I-I don’t know,” he said, choosing a small lie upon hearing the regret in his father’s voice. But when the moment stretched out between them, his father waiting silently for the truth, he sighed and admitted in a heavy tone, “No, it’s not. I don’t think it’s true. I know it is.” Andrew seemed to crumple before his eyes, running one hand down his face. “I-I’m sorry,” Max blurted, reaching for him. The two men might not get alone, but he still couldn’t bear the sight of his father’s pain.

“No, Maxwell…Max. Son. I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t there much for you as much as I should have, when you and Lee were growing up. I guess…I told myself that what I was doing was important. I was building something. For your mother. For Lee. For you. I told myself that I was giving you security, making sure you’d never want for anything. Giving you the chance to do the things I couldn’t. But I never meant to make you think that I was disappointed in you, or that I don’t love you.”

“Dad, it’s fine -” he began to protest, uncertain how to handle this outpouring of emotion and honesty from the man who had been such a mystery to him before.

Andrew shook his head. “No. It isn’t. I’ve failed you as a father, if I let you think you have ever – _ever_ disappointed me. Even for a minute. But I know…I know I’ve disappointed you. The thing is…Lee has always been easy. For me, at least. We’re a lot alike, you know. I understand the way his mind works. I could always find a way to make him happy. But you…you were always a mystery. Even the work that you do. The coding? I took a class once to try to understand it. Read dozens of books on the subject. I still can’t make a damn bit of sense out of it.” He looked embarrassed at his failure, admitting, “But it’s more than that. I could never seem to figure out what would make you happy.”

Touched that his father had made an effort to understand him, even just so far as the work he did, Max put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m happy! I don’t need you to do anything. I don’t need you to understand why I enjoy what I do. I just need you to accept that I enjoy doing it.”

“And Zoey? Does she make you happy?”

“I…she does. Did. I’m not…it’s complicated,” he admitted with a sigh. His feelings were still so raw. “Why? Did Lee say something?” His father gave him a pointed look. “Did Caroline?”

His father’s smile was tight, but for the first time it seemed more out of uncertainty than obligation. “No, actually, this one’s on your mother. She swore after dinner the other night that there was more between the two of you. And, not that you’re asking for our opinion, but as long as she makes you happy, that’s all your mother and I care about.”

They started to walk together again. As Max tried to come to terms with seeing his father in a new light, Andrew explained, “And about my insistence you join the company, I never meant to make you feel like I was passing judgment on you or your career. I just thought…after all those years I missed out on…Abigail even warned me I was being selfish. Wanting you to work with me so that I could get to know the man you’ve become. And instead I just pushed you further away. Hell, you ran to the other side of the country to get away.”

“That’s not why I did that!” he protested. Then, seeing his father’s pointed look, he corrected. Himself with a sheepish smile, “That’s not the _only_ reason I did that.”

Max looked down, scuffing his feet as he thought things over. For the first time, Andrew seemed to be willing to meet him halfway. The least he could do would be to do the same. “Listen…I’ve been thinking. You know, SPRQ Point sometimes works with companies to test out our new tech before it’s rolled out on the market. We’ve been working on something I think you might find useful. If you’d like, I can talk to my boss about letting you do a test run on a project I’ve been working on lately.” Seeing that his father didn’t quite understand what he was suggesting, he added, “I’d probably have to come out for a few days. Maybe even a week or so. Just to make sure everything was set up properly. Help you guys run through some tests.” It was very much not in his job description, but he was willing to beg Joan, if he had to.

For the first time in a long time, his father’s eyes softened with a smile. “Yeah? I’d…I’d like that,”

“There you are!” Abigail greeted them warmly as she approached, Zoey trailing a half step behind. “I’ve been looking all over for you. The guests are mostly seated, so we’ll be heading in shortly. Have you been having a good talk?”

“We have,” Andrew admitted, taking her hand. “Max here was just offering to come out and help me out at work. He -”

“What?” Zoey blurted, stepping forward. Her face was pale as she looked up at Max in shock. “But…but he can’t!”

Realizing she’d misunderstood, Max shook his head, reaching for her, but she didn’t seem to notice, shrugging off his hand. “Zoey, it’s not -”

Her voice rising in panic, she cried, “No! You-you said you were happy where you were! You can’t be serious about leaving! You just _can’t_!”

Andrew threw Max a quick look, and he could swear he saw his father actually _wink_ at him before projecting his voice loudly over the crowd, “And why not, Miss Clarke? I’ve been trying for years to get my son to join my company, and if he’s finally come to his senses…well, it’s about time he stopped wasting his life and got a serious job!”

Zoey’s jaw dropped, and her voice was filled with indignation as she scooted around Abigail to glower up at his dad. “A serious -? Max isn’t wasting his life! He’s _brilliant_ , and he’s damn good at what he does. In fact, at SPRQ Point, he’s saved our asses more times than I can count!”

“Oh, come on. I know you’re a friend, but you don’t have to be polite on my account. I’m sure you would agree that he’s immature and childish. He needs to toughen up.” People were starting to stare, but that didn’t stop Andrew – or Zoey – from continuing their argument.

“He’s considerate. And kind. And there’s nothing wrong with that! More than that, he’s funny, he’s charming, and he’s got the biggest heart of anyone I know! You have no idea -”

If Max had ever been tempted to think that his dad had merely been pretending during his earlier heartfelt admissions, he didn’t any longer. His dad was an absolutely _abysmal_ actor. Max could only wonder how Zoey didn’t catch on to what Andrew was doing, since he’d seen more convincing performances in several B movies. But she only looked increasingly incensed when he scoffed. “You mean he’s lazy and undisciplined. He needs to grow up. And I know you agree that he should stop dressing like a child.”

“I happen to like the way he looks!” Zoey retorted belligerently.

His dad ignored her. “If you really loved him, you’d tell him he should come home. Settle down with the right girl! Start a family of his own.”

At that, Abigail coughed loudly, leaning on her husband for support, and Max could swear he heard her mutter, “Laying it on a little thick, dear.”

Zoey, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice. He’d thought she was angry before, but at this, she looked practically apoplectic. Max had to be grateful there were no sharp objects nearby that she could use as a weapon, and though he knew he should probably intervene before she committed a murder at his brother’s wedding, he found he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. Hell, he could too stunned to really process what was happening right in front of him, and that left him completely at a loss as to how to respond.

“I _do_ love him! That’s why I want him to find someone who makes him _happy_. Someone he knows loves him for who he is, because that’s-”

Her words seemed to break through whatever spell had frozen him in place, and Max reached out and grabbed Zoey by the hand. Spinning her around to face him, he bent and pulled her into a long, lingering kiss. He didn’t care that they were surrounded by his family and a good chunk of their friends. He just needed to kiss Zoey. This was a woman who put her own name on flash cards when she was giving a group presentation, in case she got so nervous that she forgot it. And yet she had just stood up in front of everyone Lee and Caroline knew and had actually fought for him. More than that, she’d stood up to his _dad_ to fight for him. That had never happened before.

“Now _that_ was Caroline. Well…and Lee. It was probably five percent Lee.” His dad paused. “Okay, three percent Lee,” his dad admitted in a self-satisfied tone, extending his arm for Abigail to take. “And not to worry. Max is only coming out to help with a corporate project for a few days. He’s not coming out here for good.” Just then, the wedding planner stepped into the room, threw them all a pointed glare, and suggested that, if everyone was quite finished yelling, they should take their places _now_.

Reluctantly, Max broke off the embrace, though he quickly grabbed her hand, unable to bear the thought of being separated from her even as long as it would take to walk to the end of the aisle. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking, as she stared after his father’s retreating back with a bemused expression on her face.

“Zoey? I know after the wedding we’re going to have to talk…and analyze…and probably overanalyze what just happened, but is everything okay? I know what Caroline just did instigated…well, it was kind of a dirty trick. And I know you don’t always like to be the center of attention. If you’re angry, I understand.”

“What?” she asked, blinking rapidly and shooting him a quick glance. “Oh. _Oh!_ ” she reiterated as comprehension set in. “No, I’m not – I mean, maybe I should be, but I – well, if you want to know the truth, I was just wondering if your dad was a big fan of Disney movies, by any chance.”

Now it was Max’s turn to give her a blank look. “What? Uh…no. I don’t think so. Why?”

She grinned, her cheeks lightly tinged with pink. “Because if I’m not mistaken, while he walked out of here with your mom, he was singing a heart song. And if I remember my Golden Era of late-eighties to mid-nineties Disney movies – and every little girl on the planet probably does – he was singing ‘Kiss the Girl.’”

He had to give his head a little shake to dislodge the image that had sprung fully-formed to mind. “All right, well. That’s…weird. And now I can’t stop picturing it. I don’t know that I can deal with this. Oh, god, is this what your life is like all the time?”

She laughed and grabbed her bouquet from the florist as they took position at the end of the aisle, waiting for the rest of the bridal party to fall in line behind them. Just as the music started to play to begin the procession, however, he bent down and stole another quick kiss from her lips. “That said, when my dad offers good advice, I try not to argue with him. And, in case there’s any doubt, I love you too, Zoey Clarke.”

* * *

Throughout the ceremony, Zoey found she couldn’t tear her attention away from Max. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him walk down the aisle by her side. When they took position under the flowered arch set up at the front of the room, she scooted to the side just far enough to be able to exchange secret looks with him through the ceremony. When they were told to take their seats, she pretended to have forgotten her instructions from earlier in the morning and stole a chair next to him, so she could hold his hand. And when it came time for her to hold the bride’s bouquet and for Max to present the rings, they both had to be asked twice, because they were too wrapped up in each other.

She was so busy mooning over Max, in fact, that she jumped when Lee broke a glass at the end of the ceremony and would have missed her cue to exit if Max hadn’t reached out and taken her hand, drawing her to his side. And then, once the bride and groom had raced laughing back down the aisle, Zoey and Max rushed after them, moving at least twice as fast as they had during rehearsal.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw they were at least half an aisle ahead of the rest of the wedding party, but she didn’t mind when Max dragged her off to the side. “Come on,” he said in a husky tone, leading her up the stairs leading back up to the changing area.

“Are we…aren’t we supposed to be heading to the reception?” she asked as she followed a half step behind him.

He grinned at her over his shoulder as he pulled her into the room where he’d changed earlier in the evening before locking the door. “We are,” he admitted. “In a minute.” She expected him to move her in front of the mirror, but he seemed to be too impatient for that, since she didn’t have a chance to take more than one step into the room before she was in his arms.

“Wait! My dress!” she blurted, reaching behind her to fumble with the zipper. At his surprised look, she blushed and explained, “I discovered earlier that it wrinkles easily, and I don’t really want everyone at the wedding, including your mother, to know where we disappeared to.”

He laughed, but he obliged her by unzipping her gown with far more haste than he’d demonstrated earlier in the evening. This time, she took enough care to step out of it and toss it on the back of a nearby chair. “Now, where were we?”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he lifted her easily in his arms. She wrapped her legs around him as he pressed her back against the door and began to kiss the side of her neck. He thrust against her, and she felt the hard ridge of his erection through his tuxedo pants.

“I thought we could pick up where we left off earlier,” he growled in her ear. Unless you’re in a hurry to get to the cold potatoes and rubbery chicken I’m pretty sure is a staple at every wedding, no matter who’s throwing it.”

When he first started kissing her, Zoey tilted her head to the side with a gasp. At those words, however, she reached up and ran her fingers into his hair, pulling his head back so she could look him in the eye. “No, Max. I want you.” She saw his eyes grow dark with desire, but she didn’t release him, needing to make sure he understood what she was trying to say. In a voice barely above a whisper, she reiterated, “I want _you_. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

Her name was like a prayer on his lips as he leaned toward her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck as their lips met in a kiss.

“Max?” she finally moaned against his mouth. “How long until people start to miss us?”

“Mmmm…maybe ten minutes. Why? Do you care?” he asked, nibbling on her lower lip. Her lips parted under his, and he swept his tongue into her mouth.

Rolling her pelvis, she pressed against him and fought back a smile when he moaned into her mouth. For the most part, she didn’t care, except it occurred to her that some of the groomsmen might come up shortly to get their things before heading to the reception themselves. And as much as she ached to have Max inside her, she didn’t particularly want to be interrupted in the middle of the act.

Tilting back her head to break off the kiss, she moaned, “No. But if we’re going to do this, we’ll have to be fast.” She pressed against him again, her hands clutching the back of his tuxedo jacket. “Or,” she purred suggestively in his ear. “We could cut out of the reception early and take our time.”

He hesitated and then, breathing a curse, set her slowly back on her feet. Though she thought he planned to move away, he went down on his knees instead. Then he hooked one leg over his shoulder and braced his hands on her hips.

“Max?” she breathed. “I-I thought we were going to wait.”

“We are,” he promised, grinning up at her. “But I’ve been tortured all day, knowing you weren’t wearing any underwear. It was distracting as hell during the ceremony. It’s only fair I return the favor.”


	12. Chapter 12

Zoey gasped, her hips bucking forward as Max’s tongue swept inside her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her knees turning to jelly as he thrust his tongue inside her. His cheeks were rough with the faint hint of stubble, which scraped gently against her sensitive skin as he sucked her clit between his lips, teasing her with his teeth. “Max,” she breathed, rocking against him, but her moans of pleasure turned into frustration when he stopped and looked up at her with a mischievous smile. His lips were damp, his eyes darkened with desire, as he started to stand, and then her mouth was on his and she tasted herself on his lips. And _oh god_ , she didn’t want him to stop.

Two fingers slid inside her easily, his thumb teasing her clit as he pressed his lips against the pulse thrumming at the base of her neck and began to suck gently. “We have to get to the reception,” he reminded her, slowly pulling his hand away.

She Clutched the fabric of his jacket, pulling him harder against her. “You can’t stop now,” she growled. Her blood was racing, and she bit back a sigh when he slid a leg between her thighs. His name was a soft prayer on her lips as he wrapped his hands under her ass, setting a rhythm as she rocked against him.

“Shhh…slow down, sweetheart.” He chuckled softly when she responded with a huff of irritation.

“You know, we could be late,” she suggested. “Nobody would notice.” Like the wedding DJ didn’t announce the bridal party before the bride and groom entered the reception hall.

Lifting her, he pressed her back against the door, thrusting hard against her as she rolled her hips against him. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection, and her whole body ached to feel him thrust inside her. “God, Zoey,” he breathed into her ear. “Do you feel that? That’s what you do to me. You make me so hard. I can still taste you on my lips right now, and you taste so good…I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” she demanded.

Meeting her eyes, he grinned. “I’m waiting because, when you’re at the reception tonight, I want you to be thinking about me. Think about what it feels like when I’m inside you. Thrusting into you.” His hips mirrored his words. “Over. And over. Think about me making you scream when you come. Remember my mouth on you, inside you, until your thighs are shaking and you’re too weak to stand.” Sucking her earlobe between his teeth, he nibbled on it as he promised, “Because when we get back to our room tonight, that’s exactly what I’m going to do to you.”

Her whole body shuddered with longing, and she could swear she felt him tremble as he set her back on her feet and stepped back. She pressed her thighs together and put her hand on the door to steady herself as she fought to catch her breath. To her irritation, Max seemed to be more in control of himself, as he walked over to retrieve her dress. He held it out to her, and as she stepped into it, she said, “You know, after what you just did, I kinda feel like I should be torturing you a little bit, too.”

He laughed, but it sounded strained, and reached to help her zip the back of her dress. “Zoey, for the past few months, you’ve been all I’ve been able to think about. I’m in love with you, and now I know you’re in love with me, and instead of taking you to bed and making up for lost time, I have to go make a speech that isn’t about how I feel about you and the things I want to do to you when I get you alone again. Trust me. This is torture.”

Then, before they could be tempted to linger any longer, Max attempted a casual smile and grabbed her hand and led her back downstairs.

* * *

Max’s memory of his brother’s wedding reception would always remain a little hazy. He remembered riding over to the reception hall in the back of the car, with Zoey’s hand lightly resting on his thigh. He had no doubt it was an attempt to get some payback for teasing her as he had, and it was every bit as effective as he imagined she had hoped. Thank god for dim lighting and tuxedo jackets, as they were the only things obscuring his condition from the rest of the wedding guests.

He remembered being introduced at the reception and walking in with her at his side. Thinking, for a moment, that he could imagine this scene repeated someday, with Zoey dressed all in white. From the moment he’d realized he was in love with her, he’d never had any doubts as to what they could be to each other one day, but he was willing to wait until she was ready.

He had absolutely no memory of the toast he gave, though it moved the bride and groom to tears. But he would remember Caroline’s self-satisfied expression when she watched Max and Zoey kiss in the middle of the dance floor, in front of everyone at the party. They were no longer hiding how they felt about each other, and he had no doubt his new sister-in-law would take credit for their relationship for the foreseeable future.

She also started calling him Max again, so that was a bit of a relief.

Late in the evening, Max and Lee snuck away together for a heart-to-heart, reconnecting after so long through a shared understanding of what it was like to know you would love one woman for the rest of your days.

There were photographs, endless photographs, and dancing. He would remember Zoey dragging him on the dance floor to participate in the chicken dance. In Yiddish, by special request of the bride and groom. That, he would try to forget. Nobody looked cool doing the chicken dance. Least of all him.

But most of all, he would remember Zoey. Zoey, her cheeks flushed from champagne and exertion as she rocked it on the dance floor. Her eyes shining in the starlight as he pulled her onto the balcony for a stolen kiss or two. Laughing at Lee an Caroline’s antics. Teary at Max’s speech. Blushing while dancing with his dad, as she remembered how she had yelled at him – though he, of course, held no grudge. Zoey, resting her head on his shoulder as they swayed in each other’s arms to one of the many love songs played that evening. Whispering in his ear, words of love and of desire.

And then they were standing outside, watching the bride and groom climb into the back of a car and pull away, headed off to the hotel to sleep before catching an early flight to an extended honeymoon. Still, guests lingered, wanting to prolong the merriment a little longer, to talk about how beautiful the bride had looked, and how handsome the groom. But Max’s attention was still on Zoey, on the warmth of her body pressed against his side, and so he made his excuses, feigning exhaustion, and the two of them ducked out as soon as courtesy would allow. Max grabbed a spare bottle of champagne on the way out.

Once again, they climbed into the back of a car, this time headed to the inn where Lee had made reservations – and Caroline already had confessed that they’d reserved for them only the one room. After a long evening of frustrated desire, it was all Max could do to keep his hands off her when she rested her head on his shoulder as they rode. It was only the presence of the driver that stopped him from pulling her into his lap and tugging down the bodice of her dress with his teeth to worship her breasts with his mouth and his tongue.

And then they were standing outside of their room for the night, and his hands were trembling with the need to hold her, making it difficult to get the key card in the slot. But he knew he had to get inside before he touched her, because his self-control was razor-thin as it was, and once he felt the softness of her skin under his, it would shatter. He couldn’t take Zoey against the wall, here in the hallway where anyone could see.

Finally, miraculously, the door opened and the two of them fell into the room, their hands and mouths desperate and demanding as they reached for each other. For the third – and final – time, Max pulled off her dress and tossed it aside, heedless of any incriminating wrinkles this time. Zoey tore off his tie, dropping it on the ground at their feet. His coat quickly followed, as she pushed it off his shoulders.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a floor-length mirror standing in the corner, so when she reached for the button of his pants, he grabbed her hands to still them. “Wait,” he gasped, swallowing her gasp of surprise and frustration with a kiss as he pulled her forward. Then he turned her in his arms, so she was standing before him in the mirror. Running his fingertips lightly across her shoulders and down her arms, he leaned down to murmur in her ear, “Do you trust me, Zoey?”

She nodded, and as he kissed the nape of her neck, he unclasped her bra with deft fingers and let it fall. And then she stood naked before him, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The woman he loved. Although his body ached for her, for one long moment, all he could do was to drink in the sight of her.

She reached back with one hand, running it through his hair as she pulled him to her. “No fair. You’re still dressed,” she pointed out.

Brushing the back of his fingers down her sides to her hips, he smiled at her in the reflection. “That’s because, if I get undressed now, I won’t be able to stop myself. And there’s something I’ve been wanting to do to you since you walked into my changing room earlier.”

She lifted her eyebrows curiously, as he slowly, methodically, rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows, not wanting them to get in his way. Then he wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her along with him as he scooted backwards toward the bed. When he felt the mattress hit the back of his leg, he lowered himself onto one corner and pulled her down onto his lap, groaning when he felt the soft curves of her ass press against his throbbing erection.

“Max, what -?” Zoey began, but her question broke off when he cupped her breasts in his palms. He teased her nipples with his thumbs until she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Open your eyes,” he breathed into her ear. “I want you to watch while I make you come.”

For just a moment, he felt her stiffen, as though in surprise, but then she opened her eyes and met his gaze unflinchingly in the mirror. He grinned, nipped her neck with his teeth, and hooked his ankles around hers, spreading her legs wider. Although she blushed to see herself spread wide for him, she didn’t look away.

“I love your body,” he murmured, running his hands over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. “You’re so beautiful.” His fingers teased her, resting lightly over her curls, until she grew impatient and dug her hands into his thighs.

“Max, I need you,” she whispered as she spread herself wider for him.

Although he seemed to be the one in control, the truth was that he’d been completely at her mercy from the day he first realized he loved her. Probably before. So it only seemed fair to let her drive the show. Pressing his cheek against her neck, he whispered in return, “Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

A pink blush spread across her chest, up her neck, to her face, but still she didn’t look away. “Stroke me with your fingers.”

True to his word, he slid his hand between her folds, sliding two fingers inside her as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. “You’re so wet for me,” he breathed in her ear, biting back a groan when she shuddered at his words. Her fingers dug into his thighs as she thrust against his hand. “Do you remember the first time we did this? That day on the plane?”

Her eyes were dark with desire, and she nodded. “Taste me,” she ordered, her breathing labored. “Like you did that day.”

Max lifted his hand slowly, keeping his gaze locked on hers as he sucked each finger into his mouth, savoring her taste. He would never get enough of it. Zoey shifted, rubbing back against him, and she smiled in victory when he moaned. Her blush and any initial embarrassment at watching their sexual display had faded, so he ground his hips against hers and asked, “What do you want me to do next?” He scraped his teeth against the side of her neck. “Do you want me to use my mouth?” His fingers brushed against her stomach. “My hands?”

“Your mouth,” she decided with a grin. “It’s time you finished what you started earlier.”

He nodded, lifting her slightly so he could move off the bed to kneel on the floor between her legs. “Don’t look away,” he reminded her, lifting her thighs onto his shoulders before bracing her hips with his hands. Turning his head, he nipped her inner thigh with his teeth, grinning to himself when it caused her to gasp and jerk under his hands. Then he bent and pressed his mouth against her, teasing her with his tongue.

Her hands fisted in his hair, she held him tightly against her, moaning when he scraped her clit with his teeth. When he flicked his tongue against the sensitive nub, she jerked suddenly, but he used his palms to hold her in place. Then he lifted her slightly, angling her hips to a slightly different angle and thrust his tongue deep inside her over and over, until she was panting his name. Max was relentless, using his lips and tongue and teeth to bring her pleasure, listening as her panted breaths became more strained and she squirmed against him, and then he pressed his tongue against her clit one final time. She let out a cry as her orgasm washed over her, her hands relaxing their hold on his head.

Loosening his own grip on her thighs, Max continued to stroke her with his tongue, his touch more soothing as the muscles in her thighs relaxed and her trembling subsided. Then her hands were on his shoulders again, insistent as she pulled him up, and he let her legs fall to the ground. “Tell me what you want,” he said as he straightened, his lips still damp from drinking her in.

“I want you inside me,” she demanded. He moved to bed over her, but she held up a hand to stop him. “No. I want you to watch, too.”

His brain was a little fuzzy with desire, so it took him a second to realize what she wanted. Then he resumed his position behind her on the bed, unfastening his trousers and pulling himself out before pulling her back down onto his lap. She braced her hands on his knees, leaning forward to rotate her hips backwards as he guided himself to her opening and entered her with one hard thrust.

Gritting his teeth, Max tried to take things slow, but Zoey wasn’t patient as she bucked back hard against him. And he couldn’t hold back any longer; his body had ached with desire for too long. His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust hard into her again and again.

“Max,” she panted, her eyes locking on his in the mirror once more. “Don’t look away.” He watched their reflections as she rode him, her back arched as she ground her hips into him. “I want to watch you come.”

Her words were enough to send him over the edge, and he yanked her down onto him one final time, her name on his lips as he shuddered and poured himself into her.


	13. Chapter 13

Zoey awoke the next morning with the light streaming through the windows, falling across her pillow at just the right angle to shine directly into her eyes, making her long to throw the snuggle further under the covers and go back to sleep. But the heavy weight of an arm lazily draped around her stomach held her in place, and she scooted back against the bare chest of the man behind her, luxuriating in his warmth. In response to her movement, Max murmured her name, pressing a languorous kiss against her bare shoulder.

Rolling over, she greeted his sleepy smile with one of her own and leaned in, pressing her lips his neck. She smiled at the soft scrape of his stubble against her cheek and felt his breathing catch, and she hooked her leg over his hip, pressing against him.

He threaded his hand through her hair, tilting back her head to brush feather-soft kisses against her cheekbones, her lips, her jaw. “You know, we really should get moving if we want to see any of the sights today before we fly back home,” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

She pretended to consider his suggestion before giving him a cheeky smile. Shaking her head, she declared, “Sights are overrated. I’d rather stay in bed with you.”

He chuckled, and she was pressed so tight against him that she could feel its reverberation in her chest. “I promised I was going to take you someplace fun,” he reminded her.

“You say that like this isn’t someplace fun.”

“I think when I made the offer, clothing was implied.”

She shook her head, fighting back a smile. “It was  _ never _ a stated requirement. So it doesn’t count.”

Max feigned an affronted gasp. “You know, if you keep this up, I may start thinking you’re only in this for my body.”

She giggled and rolled her hips, her laughter dying when she felt him move against her. “N-not only,” she promised, her breath catching in her throat. “But you have to admit, it’s a pretty nice body.”

“Yes. It is,” he agreed, scooting down on the bed to suck her nipple into his mouth, teasing it slowly with his tongue. She moaned and arched against him, but then he lifted his head and threw her a wicked grin before rolling over and hopping out of bed. “But I’ve decided. I’m not going to get sidetracked. I said I’d take you someplace fun, and I’m going to do it. Give me a few minutes to shower, and we can head out.”

She collapsed back against the pillows with a heartfelt sigh as he disappeared around the corner to the restroom, followed quickly by the sound of running water. For a moment, she considered joining him in the shower and picking up where they left off, since she’d seen with her own eyes the very obvious evidence of his physical interest. But he was probably right, that it would mean they wouldn’t leave the room until it was time to return home. While she would be perfectly fine with that, he seemed determined to show her the sights. So she somehow resisted, crawling out of bed and pulling on some clothes before tossing the rest of their belongings in their bags as she waited for Max to return from the bathroom.

Her near-superhuman power of resistance was tested anew a short while later, when Max strode back into the room, a towel wrapped tightly around his waist. Was he trying to  _ kill _ her?

She didn’t realize she’d asked the question aloud until he threw her a sheepish smile and responded. “Sorry. I forgot my clothes.”

“You  _ forgot _ ,” she replied. “Uh huh. Sure. I believe that.”

“I did!” he protested. “ _ Someone _ was distracting me, you might remember.”

She plopped down on the edge of the mattress, resting her weight against her palms as she watched him dig some clothes out of his bag. When he turned back towards the bathroom, she lifted one leg, blocking his path. “You can change here, you know. If you want,” she reminded him with a mischievous smile.

The look her threw her in return was dubious. “I don’t want to give you any ideas. We have a plan, remember?” At her skeptical look, he amended his statement. “Okay, it’s less like a  _ plan _ , and more…by the time we leave here, I will definitely have some sort of plan.” Zoey took a moment to admire the view as he paused to pull on his underwear before musing, “We could always go to the beach.”

Zoey shrugged. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

In one long stride, he was standing in front of her, bracing his hands on either side of her as he leaned over her on the bed. “Who says you need one?” he breathed, ducking his head for a kiss.

Before their lips could meet, Zoey lifted one hand, clapping it over his mouth, and threw him a stern glare. “Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, Maxwell Aloysius Eugene Richman.” Over the line of her hand, she saw his eyes grow pained and he mumbled something that was muffled by her palm. “What was that?” she asked, pulling it away.

“I said ‘please tell me that’s not something we’re going to start doing,’” he reiterated, though there was laughter in his eyes as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a dark, button-up shirt.

“I don’t know,” she replied flippantly. “I’m trying it out.”

“Okay but  _ Aloysius?  _ Where did you get that one?”

“It was either that or Rufus,” she admitted, jumping to her feet and grabbing her bag. They would check out before they left to do some sight-seeing and pick up their bags before they headed to the airport. “I went with my gut.”

He snorted. “Well, good call there, because I’m pretty sure Rufus is a name for a dog. You can call me whatever you want, but I draw the line at a dog’s name.”

“It is not a dog’s name!” she protested. “There are plenty of people named Rufus!” At his pointed look, she scrambled to think of a name and all but shouted in victory when she came up with one. “Like…Rufus Wainwright! He’s totally a person!”

“Okay, there’s one. Who else have you got?” he asked, taking her bag and walking with her toward the front desk.

Though she tried her hardest, she couldn’t think of a single other example, but that didn’t stop her from crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. “I don’t need another example. I came up with one. That proves it’s a perfectly acceptable name for a person.”

“It proves that one person’s parents were very bad at picking names,” he countered. “And for the record, I think the last time anyone was named Aloysius was in the 1800s.” They continued their friendly bickering as they checked out, though they were interrupted when the clerk slid a bag across the counter toward them. “What is this?” Max asked, peering inside.

“It was left for you yesterday. I believe there’s a card.”

Even as the clerk said the words, Max was pulling out a card in a red envelope that had their names scrawled across the front in an elegant script. He passed it over to Zoey to read, and she smiled as she pulled out the card and skimmed the note inside. “What does it say?” he asked, pulling a pair of keys out of the bag with a frown.

“It’s from Lee and Caroline,” she explained, although she assumed he would have guessed as much. “They rented a car for us to use if we wanted to explore the island today and packed some snacks in the bag if we get hungry.” There was barely a half second’s pause, and then she added, “Caroline also wrote, and I quote,  _ ‘And to Maxwell Ignatius Humperdinck Richman, take care of that girl of yours and let her call you anything she wants.’ _ ”

“It does not say that!” he protested, and she could see him trying to fight back a grin.

Zoey threw him her most innocent look, even as she danced out of his reach. “It does, I swear! Would I lie to you?”

Though she knew he knew she was lying, he didn’t push the point. Instead, as he followed her instead out the door to find their rental car, he pointed out, “You know, Ignatius may actually be worse than Aloysius. And Humperdinck? Really?  _ Humperdinck? _ ” Zoey couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

For all that Max had insisted upon taking Zoey out to explore the island together, a large part of him had longed to stay behind in bed. She was so tempting first thing in the morning, with her hair a tangled mess and her voice thick with sleep. But when they threw their bags into the trunk and drove to the beach, to stroll peacefully across the sand, he couldn’t regret the choice he’d made. Her hand fit so perfectly in his, and just being her brought him a sense of peace that he had never expected to find on this trip.

As much as he loved his brother, he’d dreaded this weekend away. Seeing his family had always been a stressful experience, and he’d imagined exactly how the weekend would go – full of both subtle and overt criticism, the occasional passive-aggressive jab, and forced smiles. He’d thought he would be lonely, as he often was when he came home.

But almost nothing about the weekend had gone as he’d expected, and he had Zoey to thank for that. She made his life better and always had, and though he knew it was far too soon to be talking about  _ forever _ – she’d just come to terms with her feelings for him, after all – he’d known for a long time that she was the woman he wanted to grow old with.

During their exploration, they came across one of the lighthouses on the island and made the long climb to the top, to look out over the water. Max was quiet, lost in thought, lost in thoughts of the woman beside him, until he felt her shiver slightly from a cool breeze that swept across the water.

Stepping close, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, tucking his chin against her shoulder, and murmured, “Penny for your thoughts," when he realized she had fallen as quiet as he.

She leaned back against him, strands of her hair tickling his lips in the wind, but he didn’t mind. “I was just thinking about tomorrow. What happens when we get back home?”

He stilled, momentarily concerned. “What do you want to happen?” he asked softly. Carefully.

She threw a look at him over her shoulder, lifting her eyebrows as though she could read his mind. “Not what you’re thinking.”

“Did I just sing to you?” he asked, pressing a kiss against the side of her neck.

Zoey laughed. “No. I just know you. And after everything that happened yesterday, including what I did with that bottle of champagne last night, you can’t possibly think I’m about to suggest we call things off.”

God. The champagne. He felt himself get hard at the memory. “I don’t want to assume anything,” he mumbled sheepishly against her soft skin.

She turned in his arms, cupping his face in her palms as she looked at him with affection. “Max, I love you. But sometimes you’re kind of an idiot.” She rolled her eyes at him good-naturedly, giving her head a tiny shake. “When I said I was thinking about tomorrow, I meant that I was thinking about what we do when we have to go back to our normal lives. How we tell people.” Pressing a soft kiss against his lips, she grinned against his mouth. “And I was also wondering how I’m going to make it through the day without wanting to tear your clothes off.”

He swallowed hard. “For the record, I have  _ no _ objection to that plan.”

“Yeah, but there are only so many times we can sneak away in the middle of the day without people getting suspicious.”

“Is there really any chance that they aren’t suspicious already? I’m pretty sure they’re taking bets.”

“Probably not,” she admitted, without a shred of regret.

He was so happy, having her in his life. In his arms. He only barely managed to refrain from telling her that the whole time he was walking with Zoey down the aisle at Lee and Caroline’s wedding, he’d imagined marrying her one day. He had no idea what his future would bring, but he knew whatever it was, he wanted her in it.

But it was still so early in their relationship, and Zoey had just come to terms with her feelings for him. Max could wait until she was ready. The future wasn’t going anywhere.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her in, pressing her against his chest and lifting her off her feet as he gave her a deep kiss. “You know, about that whole ‘tearing my clothes off’ thing…”

“I thought you’d never ask. What do you say we head home? I think there’s a plane somewhere waiting for us.” It was the best suggestion he’d heard all day.

* * *

They had barely reached cruising altitude before Zoey unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for Max, throwing her leg over his to crawl into his lap. She’d been thinking of this all day, ever since he left her alone in bed, her body aching for his touch. Now he was all hers, the two of them back where it all started, and she wasn’t going to wait another minute.

Sinking her fingers into his hair, she guided his mouth to hers, swallowing his soft chuckle. But his laugh turned into a moan when she rocked against him, letting out a soft sigh when she felt him grow hard against her. How had she once thought that one weekend with him would be enough to get him out of her system? How had she thought that a few days would be enough for her to grow tired of this? Would be enough that the touch of his hand wouldn’t make her burn?

He mumbled something against her mouth that sounded like, “Patience,” and she threw her head back with a gasp as his lips pressed against the pulse thrumming in the side of her neck.

“Patience later. I want you now.”

“I think that’s not really understanding the concept of  _ patience _ ,” he teased, even as he grabbed the bottom of her sweater and yanked it off, tossing it aside. She reached for the buttons of the blouse she wore underneath, but he grabbed her hands, giving his head a small shake. “No. Not yet,” he said with a wicked grin.

Zoey didn’t get a chance to ask what he meant before he lifted her, spinning around to place her gently back in the seat. Then he hit the button to make it recline until it almost lay flat, and she held her breath as she waited to see what he would do next.

At first, he just looked at her, bracing his weight on the arms of the seat as he stared down at her. Then he leaned in and kissed her, trailing a line of kisses down her neck to her chest. Grabbing the flap of her blouse between his teeth, he tugged gently until it popped free of its button. She saw a glimpse of his victorious smile before his face was obscured as he pressed his lips against the skin that had been unveiled by his efforts.

She moaned his name, lifting her body against him when he nuzzled the folds of her shirt, biting the fabric just above the next button. “Please,” she begged, reaching for him, eager for him to hurry up and put his hands and mouth on her again.

At the touch of her hands on his head, Max made a soothing sound in the back of his throat and tugged at her shirt again, freeing the second button. When he looked up at her, his eyes were dark, and he pressed himself into her hip so she could feel the heavy weight of him. But still he didn’t rush. “Not yet. I don’t want to rush this. You know, I’ve imagined this every time I’ve seen you at work in one of your button up shirts.”

Zoey couldn’t stop her small bark of surprised laughter. “But that’s every day!”

“Exactly,” he said, before grabbing her shirt between his teeth, tugging the third button free. “Which is why I plan to take my time.”

The feel of his warm breath against her skin made her shiver, but she didn’t protest as he unbuttoned the rest of her shirt with his teeth, every soft scrape of his teeth against her bare skin causing her to want more. Finally, the last button pulled free, and the folds of her blouse pooled at her side, exposing her.

She had thought he would reach for her, but he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his mouth against one breast, wetting the fabric of her bra with his tongue before gently tripping the delicate fabric between his teeth and pulling it down. She arched against his mouth as he teased her with his mouth before switching to the other breast to repeat the process.

Then he sank to his knees before her, his breath hot against her stomach as his teeth sought out the line of her pants, giving the fabric a few hard yanks before the button finally slipped free. Lifting her legs to rest her thighs on his shoulders, she had the momentary thought that surely he didn’t intend to continue…but he did, biting the small metal tab of her zipper and slowly, inexorably, pulling it down.

Her breathing was ragged as she gasped, “If you’re planning to pull my pants down with your teeth, that might take a while, and I definitely don’t have the patience for that.”

She thought he might try, just to tease her a bit longer, but instead he grinned at her and pressed his mouth against her stomach. “How about just your underwear?” he asked teasingly as he lifted her hips to slide her pants down her legs until she could kick them aside.

“Next time,” she vowed, even though she knew there was little chance she’d have more capacity to resist him in the future than she did right now. Fisting her hands in the back of his shirt, she gave it a hard tug. “I want you.”

There was something about those three little words,  _ I want you _ , that always seemed to push Max right to the edge of his control, so she wasn’t surprised when he surged forward, capturing his mouth with his as he covered her with his body. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Zoey knew she should take a moment to finish removing the rest of her clothing – or at the very least to get him out of any of his – but she couldn’t stand the thought of him lifting off of her even long enough to do so.

Instead, she grabbed the front of his shirt in both hands and yanked as hard as she could, and there was the soft sound of at least one button pinging against something metal as it flew off.

For a second, she thought she’d gone too far when he stopped kissing her, but when he leaned back to meet her eyes, he was grinning. “You know, I liked this shirt.”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she promised, hooking her legs over his hips and lifting herself against him. He slid one hand between her thighs, stroking her through her panties, and pressed his forehead against her chest with a soft curse when he felt her wetness even through the thin fabric. “I’ve been aching for you all day,” she explained, yanking his hair so that she could look him in the eyes as she whispered. “I want you inside of me, Max. Right now.”

Impatient to finish what they’d started, Zoey pressed her hand against his chest, giving it a hard shove until he lifted off of her. Her fingers fumbled with the button of his pants as she stood, spinning around to push him back into the chair as his pants fell to the floor. As quickly as she could, she tore off the rest of her clothes before reaching for him once more, and he lifted his hips so she could pull down his underwear, freeing his erection.

“Too bad we don’t have any more champagne,” she teased him, running her tongue along his shaft as she crawled up his body.

“Zoey, please,” he breathed, his voice pained as he gripped her shoulders hard. Kneeling on either side of his body, she pressed herself against him, gasping when he thrust his hips against hers. “Please.”

Lowering herself onto him, Zoey threw her head back and saw the place where she and Max had first kissed. Where she had told him she thought they should have sex. Where she’d first learned how quickly he could make her body yearn for his touch. She wondered if she’d ever be able to fly again without thinking of him – but, then, if she had her way, she’d never have to because anywhere she would go in the future, it would be with him at her side. It was almost certainly a bigger problem that she’d never be able to wear one of her button-up shirts to work without thinking of his mouth on her bare skin, which was troubling because she  _ really _ liked her button-up blouses. Which definitely wasn’t going to help in her struggle to keep her mind on work, rather than on her desire to tear off his clothes and have her way with him.

If she thought her erotic dreams of Max were distracting, her erotic memories would be so much worse.

Lowering herself onto him until he filled her completely, she grew still and stared at the man beneath her. His tattered shirt lay open to expose his bare chest, which only served to remind her that it was that very sight that had likely inspired the dreams that had brought her into this mess. But it was the expression in his eyes that caught her attention. Through the haze of desire, she could see his love for her, and she wondered how she could have missed it for so long. And how she could have spent so many years pretending to herself that she didn’t love him in return.

He was the most precious thing in the world to her, and now, at last, she wasn’t scared to admit it. Though she’d once been scared to think of what she stood to lose if things between them didn’t work out, now she was ready to face the uncertain future with him by her side.

Lost in her thoughts, she hesitated for a little too long because he cupped her face in his palms, gently drawing her gaze down to his. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked for the second time that day, the corners of his mouth twitching into a tiny half-smile.

She returned the gesture. “I’m thinking about you,” she admitted in a soft voice. “And how much I love you.” As she said the words, she rolled her hips, making him gasp.

“I love you,” he breathed in return, lifting his hips into hers. And for the next few minutes, neither of them could speak as she rode him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his chest as he caressed her breasts and stomach before sliding his hand between their legs to stroke her with his fingers even as he thrust inside her.

She felt Max start to tremble under her palms and knew he was about to cum, and she swept her hands up to his shoulders and held on tight as she moaned his name. He cupped her cheek in his palm and their gazes met. Neither of them looked away, their bodies shuddering together as they came.

Zoey collapsed against him, her chest heaving, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close as they struggled to catch their breath. His breathing was still ragged when Max broke the silence that had fallen between them. “Zoey? Can I tell you something?” he gasped. She made a tiny grunt of assent, the most she could manage at the moment. “I’ve been thinking about it and…I guess I’m okay with Aloysius. And even Eugene. But I have to draw the line at Humperdinck.”

It was the last thing she’d expected, and so Zoey let out a surprised laugh and closed her eyes and tucked her head against the curve of his neck. “You are such a dork, but I still love you, you know,” she told him fondly through her giggles.

His voice sounded as happy as she felt when he murmured in return. “I know. I love you too, Zoey Genevieve Lorelei Isabella Andrea Clarke.”

Smiling, she pressed her cheek into his chest as she shook her head, knowing it was still too early in their relationship to say what she knew deep down to be true. She didn’t need to add all those made-up names to her own. One day, Richman would do.

But she didn’t have to tell him that right now. After all, they had forever.


End file.
